r 


!irit;t::it4:i;::t!»it')it:. 


(2) 


CHUMS. 


^\ 


CALIFORNIA    STATE    SERIES 


A 


THIRD    READER 

BY 

STRATTON   D:  BROOKS 

REVISED    BY 

THE    STATE    TEXT-BOOK    COMMITTEE 

AND     APPROVED     BV 

THE  STATE  BOARD  OF  EDUCATION 


SACRAMENTO 
W.  W.  Shannon,  SuyEiiiNTENDENt  Siate  Printing 


n9-' 


^- 


Copyright,  1910,  by 
THE   PEOPLE   OF   THE   STATE   OF  OALIFORNIA. 


Copyright,  1906,  by 
AMERICAN   BOOK   COMPANY. 


All  right's  reserved. 

EDUCATION  DEPT. 


In  the  compilation  of  this  book,  certain  matter 
from  Brooks's  Reader,  Third  Year,  by  Stratton 
D.  Brooks,  has  been  used.  All  such  matter  is 
protected  by  the  copyi-ijjht  entries  noted  above. 


CONTENTS 


f 5  1  I  \^ 


^ 

(_ 


-P 


The  Magic  Windows     . 

.        •        •        •        • 

,       11 

The  Land  of  Story  Books 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson 

.       16 

0  Big,  Round  World     . 

.     Alice  C.  D.  Riley 

18 

A  Wonderful  Ball 

Adapted 

19 

The  Great,  Wide  World 

William  Bri()htij  Rands 

21 

Flowers  that  Tell  Time 

.     Kate  L.  Brown 

22 

Dandelion       .... 

George  Cooper 

24 

The  Farmer's  Wheat  Field    . 

W.  E.  Baldwin     . 

25 

The  Song  of  the  Wheat 

Selected 

27 

The  Song  of  the  Mill  Wheel 

Selected 

29 

The  Sky  Bridge      . 

Christina  G.  Rossetti     , 

.      30 

The  Apple-tree  Mother  . 

Selected 

31 

The  Diamond  Dipper     • 

A  n  Old  Legend     . 

39 

Beautiful  Things   . 

David  Swing 

43 

My  Country    .... 

Marie  Zetterherg  . 

44 

My  Own  Land  Forever  . 

John  G.  Whittier  . 

44 

Home,  Sweet  Home 

John  Howard  Payne     . 

45 

Verses  for  September,.  October,  Nc 

Dvember    .... 

46 

Emilti  Dickinson,  Thomas  Baile 

y  A  Idrich,  Dora  Read  Goodale 

An  Autumn  Riddle  , 

Selected          .          .         ■          . 

48 

Leaves  at  Play 

Frank  D.  Sherman 

48 

M187505 


6 


Where  Go  the  Boats 

Robert  Louis 

Sterenson 

49 

The  Corn  Song       .         .         .         . 

John  G.  Whittier  . 

50 

Shapes  of  Leaves    .         .         .         . 

Adupled        .         .         .         . 

52 

Dogs  that  ahnost  Talk  . 

Edith  Carriiujton 

56 

A  Little  Girl's  Fancies  . 

Selected         .         .         •         . 

60 

A  Boy's  Wishes      .         .         .         . 

William  Allingham 

61 

RoUo  and  George  .         .         .         . 

Jacob  Abbott 

-     62 

The  Farmer's  Story 

Jacob  Abbott 

64 

The  Dog  and  his  Image 

JEsop    . 

68 

Belling  the  Cat       . 

^sop    . 

69 

The  Dog  in  the  Manger 

.    JEsop  . 

70 

A  Wise  Indian 

Adapted 

70 

Clovernook 

• 

.      73 

The  Poet  Sisters     . 

•                 • 

76 

Our  Homestead 

.     Phoebe  Gary 

.      78 

Suppose          .... 

Phoebe  Canj 

.      79 

November       .... 

.     Alice  Canj 

.      81 

Columbus  in  the  Nevs^  World 

. 

.      82 

Columbus  returns  to  Spain    . 

. 

.      85 

Colmnbus  at  the  Court  of  Spain 

. 

.      87 

The  First  Thanksgiving 

.     Marian  M.  George 

.      90 

Thanksgiving  Day 

.     Lydia  Maria  Child 

.      94 

The  Snow  Baby     . 

.     Josephine  D.  Peary 

.      96 

A  Snow  House 

.     Adapted 

.     101 

The  Northern  Seas 

.     William  Howitt     . 

.     104 

Verses    for    December,    January 

) 

February 

.     Mary  Mapet 

f  Dodge 

.     106 

PAflE 

Christmas  Ever\'\vhere  , 

.     Phillips  Brooks     . 

.     107 

The  Christmas  Song 

.     Selected 

.     108 

The  Kew  Year 

.     Marie  Zetterherg  . 

.     110 

How  Plants  Grow  . 

.     Adapted 

.     Ill 

Talking  in  their  Sleep   . 

.     Edith  J/.  Thomas 

.     115 

A  Riddle         .... 

.     George  Macdonald 

116 

Snow-flakes      .... 

.     Frank  Dempster  Sherman 

117 

Fannie's  IMenagerie 

.     "  Rainbows  for  Children  " 

118 

How  Lambkin  -White  was  Savet 

1 

122 

The  Lamb      .... 

.     William  Blake 

129 

The  Xecklace  of  Truth  . 

Old  Fuirij  Tales   . 

.     130 

Speak  the  Truth     . 

.     Selected 

135 

Saint  Valentine 

.     Adapted 

135 

A  Famous  Old  House    . 

. 

138 

Hiawatha's  Hunting- 

.     JlenrijWudsicorth  Lnngfellori 

>   no 

Longfellow  with  his  Children 

.     Adapted 

143 

Letter  to  a  Little  fiirl    . 

.     Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellon 

147 

The  Open  "Window 

IlenryWadsworth  Longfellon 

150 

The  Village  Blacksmith 

.     Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellou, 

151 

George  "Washington,  the  Young 

Surveyor     .... 

154 

Surveying  in  the  "Wildernes 

s 

156 

Abraham  Lincoln  .         ... 

.     James  Baldwin. 

His  Xew  Home 

. 

158 

His  First  Great  Sorrow  . 

•                  ••«•• 

163 

Hana  and  Tora 

Their  Home    . 

•                  ••••• 

107 

Their  Festival  Days 

•                  •••••• 

173 

8 


PARE 

Verses  for  March,  April,  ]May 

•        ■        «         •         . 

.     178 

Dora  R. 

Goodale,  Thomas  Bailey  Aldric 

h. 

An  Easter  Song 

.     Mar;/  A.  Lathbury 

.    179 

The  Song  of  the  Poppy  Seed 

.     E.  Xeshit 

.    180 

Clovers   

.     Helena  L.  J elUffe 

.     181 

Who  Told  the  Xews?    . 

.     Selected 

.     182 

Air 

Worthington  Hooker     . 

.     183 

The  Unseen  Giant 



.    185 

What  Robin  Told  . 

.     George  Cooper 

.     190 

A  Bird's  Education 

.     Olive  Thome  Miller 

.     191 

How  Birds  Learn  to  Sing 

.     Mary  Mapes  Dodge 

.     196 

The  Greatest  of  Beasts  . 



.     197 

The  Story  of  Giant  Sun 

.     Mary  Proctor 

.     202 

Summer  Sun  .... 

.     Robert  Louis  Stevenson 

.    205 

The  Story' of  Phaethon  . 

.     Greek  Myths 

.    206 

A  Sunflower  Story 

•     Greek  Myths 

.    210 

Wyliken,  Blynken,  and  Nod 

.     Eugene  Field 

.    212 

Rosa  Bonheur 

.     A  dapted. 

A  Little  Girl  who  Loved  Animals           .... 

.    214 

A  Little  Girl  who  Painted 

Animals        .         •         .         , 

.    217 

A  Great  Artist 

...••• 

.    220 

When  Benjamin  Franklin  was  a 

Boy          .... 

.     Adapted 

.    225 

A  Weaving  Story  . 

.     Adapted 

.    229 

America          .... 

.     Samuel  Francis  Smith  . 

.    234 

A  Song  for  Flag  Day     . 

.     Lydia  Coonley  Ward    . 

.    235 

Verses  for  June,  July,  August 

.    286 

9 


PACE 

The  Seasons.     Tlie  Months  . 

•                          •                          •                          •                          •                          0 

.     237 

For  the  Girls 

.   .  Charles  Kinyslcy  . 

.     238 

For  the  Boys  .... 

.     Selected 

.     238 

What  would  I  Do? 

.     Selected 

.     239 

Pronouncing  Key  and  "Word 

List          .... 

,    241 

ACKNOWLEDCniEXTS 

The  selections  from  the  writings  of  Henry  W.  Longfellow,  Thomas 
Bailey  Aldrich,  John  G.  'Whittier,  Frank  Dempster  Sherman,  Olive 
Thorne  Miller,  Dora  Read  Goodale,  Lucy  Larcom,  Alice  and  Phcebe  Gary, 
are  used  by  permission  of  and  by  special  arrangements  with  Houghton, 
MifHin  &  Co.,  the  authorized  publishers  of  the  writings  of  these  authors. 

Special  arrangements  have  also  been  made  with  the  following  publishers 
for  permission  to  use  selections  from  their  publications :  Little,  Brown 
&  Co.  for  a  stanza  from  Emily  Dickinson's  poems  ;  The  Macmillan 
Company  for  "  Clovers,"  copyright,  1902  ;  Charles  Scrlbner's  Sons  for 
"  ^yynken,  Blynken,  and  Nod,"  by  Eugene  Field,  and  for  a  stanza  from 
"  Rhymes  and  Jingles,"  by  ]\Iary  Mapes  Dodge. 

Acknowledgments  are  also  due  to  Silver,  Burdett  &  Company  for 
"Flowers  that  teU  Time"  and  "Maple  Leaves,"  from  The  Plant  Saby 
and  its  Friends,  by  Kate  Louise  Brown,  copyright,  1897,  and  also  for  a 
selection  from  Stories  of  Starland  ;  to  the  Century  Company  for  "  How 
Birds  learn  to  Sing,"  by  Mary  Mapes  Dodge,  from  When  Life  is  Yoting  ; 
to  F.  A.  Stokes  Company  for  a  selection  from  The  Snow  Baby,  by 
Josephine  D.  Peary,  copyilght,  1901  ;  to  the  Biglow  &  Main  Company 
for  "The  Easter  Song,"  from  Little  Pilgrim  Songs;  to  A.  Flanagan 
Company  for  "  The  First  Thanksgiving,"  from  The  Plan  Book;  to  James 
Baldwin  for  "  Abraham  Lincoln,"  from  Four  Great  Americans;  to  Alice 
C.  D.  Riley  and  to  Lydia  A.  C.  Ward  for  selections  from  their  writings. 

Acknowledgments  are  due  to  Miss  Frances  Lilian  Taylor  of  Galesburg, 
Illinois,  and  to  Mr.  W.  J.  Button  of  Chicago  for  valuable  assistance 
rendered  in  choosing  the  selections  comprised  in  this  volume. 


(10) 


THE  MAGIC  WINDOWS. 


>  5    I     ^        -if 

t    »     3        >  )        1 

13   1       I       ;     >     ) 


THE   MAGIC   WINDOWS 
I 

Did  you  ever  hear  of  the  Magic  Windows  ? 
Those  who  loolv  through  them  behokl  many 
strange  and  beautiful  sights.  If  you  will  but 
make  them  your  own,  you  may  enter  the 
fairyland  of  wonder  and  see  all  its  rich 
treasures. 

You  ask  me  how  you  can  do  this?  I  will 
answer  by  telling  you  a  story. 

There  was  once  a  happy  boy  who  played 
through  the  long  snmmer  days.  And  where 
he  played  the  meadows  were  green,  and  the 
sky  was  blue,  and  the  sunshine  was  bright. 

On  every  side  the  flowers  nodded  like  smil- 
ing playmates.  Birds  chirped  to  him  from 
the  bushes.  The  rabbits  gave  him  a  friendly 
look  as  they  went  leaping  by.  The  squirrels 
watched  him  with  bright  eyes  as  they  ran  up 

and  down  the  trees. 

11 


12 

A  little  brook  flowed  tliroiigli  the  meadows. 
On  its  sandy  bed  the  happy  boy  found  bright 
pebbles.  His  toy  ships  sailed  i^roudly  upon 
its  waves  or  rested  in  the  quiet  harbors  along 
its  banks.  Tiny  fishes  darted  from  their  hid- 
ing places  to  eat  the  crumbs  which  he  threw 
into  the  water. 

"  I  wonder  where  the  brook  goes,"  said  the 
happy  boy.  "  I  should  like  to  follow  it  and 
see.  How  I  wish  the  school  bell  would  never 
call  me  from  my  play  !  I  would  rather  sail 
mv  boat  than  learn  to  read,  and  I  like  the 
rabbits  and  squirrels  better  than  my  books." 

IL 

harbor  magic  curious  spun 

crumbs  delight  slumber  cubs 

The  little  brook  heard  the  boy's  Avords  as 
it  went  flowing  by.  On  its  way  to  the  great 
river  it  ran  throuo'h  a  forest  where  fairyland 
was  liidden.  There  it  told  the  fairies  of  the 
happy  boy  and  of  his  wishes. 

By  and  by  the  sun  went  down  and  play- 


13 


time  ended.  Niglit  came,  and  the  Sliut-eye 
train  carried  the  boy  far  away  to  the  Land 
of  Slumber. 

There    a   wise  fairy  met   the 
happy  boy.     "  Come  with  me," 
she  said,  "  and  I  will  let  yon 
look  throngh    Magic  Windows 
into  a  land  of  wonders." 

Through  the  Magic  Windows 
the  boy  looked  with  delight.  All  the  things 
that  he  had  ever  wished  to  see  were  before 
him.  There  were  the  hiding  places  of  the 
V  >^  'V.  /  '  wild  birds.  There  were 
//A  jr^;j'>A>   ,/-'»       the  animals  that  live 

in  the  fields  and  in 
the  woods. 

He  could  look 
into  the  birds'  nests 
that  hung  on  the 
tallest  trees.  He 
could  peep  into 
the  holes  where  the 
squirrels  kept  their 
little  ones. 


14 


He  could  see  the  mole  digging  long  halls 
under  ground.  He  could  watch  the  spider  as 
it  spun  the  silk  for  its  curious  house. 

Kabbits  were  hiding  their  young  in  the 
long  grass,  and  little  foxes  were  playing  by 
their  rocky  dens. 

He  could  even  see  the  bear's  cubs  curled 
up  like  balls  in  the  hollow  trunks  of  trees. 


in. 


seal 
hu2:e 


reindeer 
dashing: 


crept 
hollow 


monkeys 
elephants 

"  Look  to  the  north,"  said  the  fairy. 
And  then  the  happy  boy  looked  away  over 

the  great  round 
world.  He  saw 
strange  lands 
and  strange  1)60- 
ple.  Far  off  in 
the  north  he 
could  see  the 
land    of     snow 

and  ice.     There  were  the  homes  of  the  seal, 

the  reindeer,  and  the  white  bear. 


15 

Children  dressed  in  fur  crept  out  of  snow 
houses.  They  went  dashing  over  the  snow  in 
sleds  drawn  by  dogs. 

Again  the  happy  boy  looked,  and  the  won- 
der lands  of  the  south  lay  before  him.  Gay 
liowers  blossomed  everywhere.  Bright-colored 
birds  found  a  safe  home  in  the  great  forest. 


He  could  see  the  lion  and  his  mate  in  their 
home.  Hundreds  of  monkeys  played  in  the 
branches  of  the  trees.  Tigers  ran  through 
the  tall  grass,  and  huge  elephants  pushed 
their  wav  anions;  the  trees  and  bushes. 

Once  more  the  happy  boy  looked  tlirough 
the  Magic  Windows,  and  oh,  how  wonderful! 


16 

He  could  see  into  fairy  land  where  ani- 
mals talk,  and  where  the  playthings  are 
alive. 

''  Oh,  kind  fairy,  let  me  stay  here,"  said 
the  happy  boy.  "  I  can  not  leave  this  land 
of  wonders." 

"  Would  you  like  to  have  the  Magic  Win- 
dows for  your  own  ?  "  asked  the  fairy.  ''  Then 
listen  well.  When  the  school  bell  rings,  it 
will  call  you  to  the  land  of  books.  Through 
the  Magic  Windows  of  your  books  you  may 
see  greater  wonders  than  fairies  can  tell  or 
fairy  land  can  show." 

Another  day  came  with  the  rising  sun. 
Once  more  the  school  bell  rang.  Gladly  the 
happy  boy  left  his  play,  for  in  his  books  he 
would  find  the  Magic  Windows. 

THE   LAND    OF   STORY    BOOKS 

At  evening,  Avhen  the  lamp  is  lit, 
Around  the  fire  my  parents  sit ; 
They  sit  at  home  and  talk  and  sing, 
And  do  not  play  at  anything. 


17 

Now,  with  my  little  gun,  I  crawl, 
All  in  the  dark  along  the  wall. 
And  follow  round  the  forest  track 
Away  behind  the  sofa  back. 

There  in  the  night,  where  none  can  spy, 
All  in  my  hunter's  camp  I  lie. 
And  play  at  books  that  I  have  read. 
Till  it  is  time  to  go  to  bed. 

These  are  tlie  hills,  these  are  the  woods. 
These  are  my  stai-ry  solitudes ; 
And  there  the  river  by  whose  brink 
The  roaring  lions  come  to  drink. 

I  see  the  others  far  away. 
As  if  in  lirelit  camp  they  lay, 
And  I,  like  to  an  Indian  scout. 
Around  their  party  prowled  about. 

So,  w^hen  my  nurse  comes  in  for  me, 
Home  I  return  across  the  sea, 
And  go  to  bed  with  backward  looks 
At  my  dear  Land  of  Story  Books. 

—  Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 

2 — 3r 


18 


0,  BIG  round  world,  0,  wide,  wide  world, 

How  wonderful  you  are. 
Your  oceans  are  so  very  deep, 

Your  hills  reach  up  so  far; 
Down  through  your  valleys  wide  and  green, 

Such  mighty  rivers  flow ; 
Upon  your  great  sky-reaching  hills, 

Such  giant  forests  grow.— Alice  C.  D.  Riley. 


By  permission  of  John  Church  Company, 
owners  of  the  copyright. 


19 


A    WONDERFUL   BALL 


roii2;li  surface  stretches  drifts 

level  islands  feathery  dreary 

I  HAVE  heard  of  a  wonderful  ball  which 
floats  in  the  sweet  blue  air,  and  has  soft 
white  clouds  about  it  as  it  floats  along. 

There  are  many  charming  stories  to  be 
told  about  this  wonderful  ball.  Some  of 
them  you  shall  hear. 

It  is  so  large  that  many  houses  are  built 
upon  it.  Men  and  women  live  upon  it,  and 
little  children  can  x^lay  upon  its  surface. 

In  some  places  it  is  soft  and  green,  like 
the  long  meadows  between  the  hills.  In 
other  parts  there  are  trees  for  miles  and 
miles  on  every  side.  All  kinds  of  wild  ani- 
mals live  in  the  great  forests  that  grow  on 
this  wonderful  ball. 

Then  again  in  some  places  it  is  steep  and 
rouo'h.  And  there  are  mountains  so  high  that 
the  snow  lies  upon  their  tops  all  the  year 
around. 


20 

In  other  parts  there  are  no  hills  at  all,  but 
level  land,  and  quiet  little  ponds  of  blue 
water.  There  the  white  water  lilies  grow 
and  fishes  play  among  the  lily  stems. 

Now,  if  we  look  on  another  side  of  the 
ball,  we  shall  see  no  ponds,  but  something  very 
dreary.  A  great  plain  of  sand  stretches  away 
on  every  side.  There  are  no  trees,  and  the 
sunshine  beats  down  upon  the  burning  sand. 
We  look  again,  and  we  see  a  great  body 
of  water.  Manv  islands  are  in  the  sea,  and 
great  ships  sail  upon  it. 

Look  at  one  more  side  of  this  ball  as  it 
turns  around.  Jack  Frost  must  have  spent 
all  his  longest  winter  nights  here.  For  see 
what  a  palace  of  ice  he  has  built  for  himself. 
How  cold  it  looks !  See  the  clear,  blue  ice, 
almost  as  blue  as  the  sky.  And  look  at  the 
snow,  drifts  upon  drifts,  and  the  feathery 
flakes  filling  the  air. 

Now,  what  do  you  think  of  this  ball,  so 
white  and  cold,  so  warm  and  green,  so  dreary 
and  rough,  as  it  floats  along  in  the  sweet  blue 
air,  with  the  flocks  of  white  clouds  about  it  ? 


21 

I  will  tell  you  one  thing  more.  The  wise 
men  have  said  that  this  earth  on  which  we 
live  is  just  such  a  ball.  We  shall  know  more 
about  this  Avhen  we  are  older  and  wiser. 


THE   GREAT,   WIDE   WORLD 

Great,  wide,  beautiful,  wonderful  world. 
With  the  wonderful  water  round  you  curled, 
And  the  wonderful  grass  upon  your  breast  — 
World,  you  are  beautifully  dressed. 

The  wonderful  air  is  over  me, 
And  the  wonderful  wind  is  shaking  the  tree ; 
It  walks  on  the  water,  and  whirls  the  mills, 
And  talks  to  itself  on  the  tops  of  the  hills. 

You  friendly  earth,  how  far  do  you  go. 

With  the  wdieat  fields  that  nod  and  the  rivers 

that  flow, 
With  cities  and  gardens,  and  cliffs  and  isles. 
And  people  upon  you  for  thousands  of  miles? 

—  William  Brighty  Rands. 


22 


FLOWERS   THAT   TELL   TIME 


smn  remained 

jolly  nightgown 


refreshing 
clambered 


curls 
porch 


Down  in  the  grass  plot  of  a  pretty  garden 
grew  a  little  dandelion.       He  wore  a  green 

jacket,  and  his  head  Avas  cov- 
ered with  sunny,  yellow  curls. 
In  the  morning,  he  stood 
up  boldly,  lifting  his  jolly  lit- 
tle face  to  catch  the  dewdrops. 
In  this  way  he  took  his  morn- 
in«;  bath,  and  he  found  it  yery 
refreshing.  At  dusk  he  put 
on  his  green  nightgown  and 
went  to  bed  yery  early. 

The  mothers  said,  as  they 
called  the  children  from  their 
play,  "See,  there  is  the  good  dandelion! 
He  knows  when  it  is  time  to  go  to  bed." 

As  the  dandelion  grew  older,  his  yellow  curls 
turned  white.  Then  the  children  would  blow 
—  one,  two,   three   times.      If   all  the   hairs 


23 


^^^r^C!"^-^ 


\'j'  •^ 


blew  away,  it  was  a  sign  that 
motlier  wanted  tliem  at  once. 

If  there  were  ten  hairs  left, 
the  children  said,  "  Mother 
wants  ns  at  ten  o'clock."  If 
but  two  hairs  remained,  they 
said,  "  Motlier  will  look  for 
us  at  two  o'clock." 

When  the  children  awoke 
in  the  morning,  they  saw 
the  morning-glory  cups  peep- 
ing in  at  the  windows. 
"Six  o'clock!  Time  to  get 
up!"  they  said.  "The 
morning  glories  are  calling 


us. 


77 


Every  afternoon  the  four-o'clocks  bloomed. 
Their  red  and  white  flowers  told  the  children 
that  their  father  would  soon  be  home. 

In  the  evening  the  moon  tlowers  unfolded 
their  great  white  blossoms  on  the  vines  that 
clambered  over  the  porch.     "Now  it  is  bed- 


24 

time/'    said    the    children,    "for    the    moon 
flowers  are  looking  down  at  us." 

All    day  long   the    time  flowers,   like    our 
clocks,  are  telling  us  the  time  of  day. 

—  Kate  Louise  Bkown. 
DANDELION 

Dandelion,  dandelion, 

Where's  your  cup  of  gold  ? 
Where's  your  jacket  green  and  trim 

That  you  Avore  of  old  ? 
Then  you  nodded  to  the  birds 

In  a  jaunty  way. 
And  you  danced  to  every  tune 

The  breeze  could  play. 

Dandelion,  dandelion, 

Age  comes  creeping  on, 
And  your  wig  is  snowy  white, 

Golden  locks  are  gone ; 
But  you've  had  a  merry  time 

Since  your  days  began, 
And  even  now  you're  a  cheery, 

Blithe  old  man.  ^  ^ 

—  George  Cooper. 


25 


THE   FARMER'S   WHEAT   FIELD 


threshed 

healthy 

neidibor 


breeze 

bearded 

thousand 


flour 

grain 

cheer 


HEBE  was  once  a  stalk  of  wheat 
that  arew  in  the  middle  of  a 
field.  It  was  very  tall  and  it 
lifted  its  head  high  and  nodded 
in  the  wind. 

All  around  it  were  a  thousand 
other  stalks  not  quite  so  tall. 
Every  one  was  looking  up  at  the 
sun  and  bowing  to  its  neighbor, 
and  saying,  "  Good  morning." 

"  How  bright  and  golden  we 
are!  "  said  the  tall  stalk:  "and 
how  beautiful  we  look,  standing 
to2:ether  like  a  sreat  armv  of  sol- 
diers !  The  sun  shines  to  cheer 
us.  And  when  the  gentle  rains 
fall,  how  sweet  and  refreshing 
they  are! " 


26 

*'  Yes,  yes !  "  said  the  other  stalks,  waving 
back  and  forth  in  the  morning  breeze.  "  All 
the  world  is  very  kind  to  us.  AVe  have  noth- 
ing to  do  but  to  live  and  grow  and  become 
bright  and  golden  like  the  sun." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  tall  stalk.  "  It  is  true  that 
we  must  live  and  grow  and  become  yellow 
and  golden.  But  after  that,  there  must  be 
something  else  for  us  to  do." 

The  very  next  day  the  farmer  came  into 
the  fields  to  look  at  his  wheat.  He  took 
some  of  the  bearded  heads  and  rubbed  them 
between  his  hands.  They  were  full  of  plump, 
round,  golden  grains. 

"What  fine  flour  these  will  make,  and 
what  good  bread  for  little  Alice,"  he  said. 
"  The  wheat  is  fully  ripe  and  it  must  be  cut 

at  once." 

Then  all  the  golden-headed  stalks  waved 
back  and  forth  in  the  wind.  "Now  we 
understand  it  all,"  they  whispered.  "It  is 
for  the  sake  of  the  farmer's  fair  little  girl 
that  we  are  here. 

"  She  must  live  and  grow  and  be  healthy 


27 

and  beautiful.  There  is  notliing  tliat  can 
help  her  to  do  this  so  well  as  good  bread 
made  from  the  best  of  wheat." 

Very  soon  the  golden  stalks  were  cut.  The 
wheat  was  threshed  and  ground  into  the  finest 
of  flour.  And  then  the  flour  was  baked  into 
fresh,  white  loaves  of  bread. 

But  little  Alice  did  not  know  that  her  bread 
was  made  of  the  wheat  that  she  had  seen 
growing  in  the   big  field  where  the  daisies 

bloomed.  —  W.  E.  Baldwin. 


THE   SONG   OF   THE   WHEAT 

Back  of  the  bread  is  the  snowy  flour ; 

Back  of  the  flour  is  the  mill ; 
Back  of  the  mill  the  growing  wheat 

Nods  on  the  breezy  hill ; 
Over  the  wheat  is  the  glowing  sun 

Ripening  the  heart  of  the  grain  ; 
Above  the  sun  is  the  gracious  God, 

Sending  the  sunlight  and  rain. 


X 


J 
J 


Q 

-J 

o 

ClI 

X 

E- 


(28) 


29 


THE   SONG   OF   THE   MILL  WHEEL 

KouND  and  round  it  goes,  — 

As  fast  as  water  flows, 
The  dripping,  dropping,  rolling  wheel 
That  turns  tlie  noisy,  dusty  mill. 

Kound  and  round  it  goes, 

As  fast  as  water  flows. 

Turning  all  the  day. 

It  never  stops  to  play,  — 
The  dripping,  dropping,  rolling  wheel 
That  keeps  on  grinding  golden  meal. 

Turning  all  the  day, 

It  never  stops  to  play. 

Sparkling  in  the  sun, 

The  merrv  waters  run 
Upon  the  foaming,  flashing  wheel 
That  laugheth  loud,  but  worketh  still. 

Sparkling  in  the  sun. 

The  merry  waters  run. 

—  Selected. 


Boats  sail  on  the  rivensr 

Ships  sail  on  the  seas-,  __  ^^_.- 
Bur  the  clouds  that  sail  across  fhesky 
Ave  prettier  tar  Than  these 


There  are  \yr\d^e3  ow  the  rivers. 

As  pretty  as  you  please. 

But  the  bow  that  brides  heaven. 
And  overtops  the  treesT::}::;^:^ 
And  builds  a  bridge  Trom  earth  to  sky 
is  prettier  ^r  than  these,  ""^^hnsfina  c  Rossem 


31 


THE   APPLE-TREE   MOTHER 


I. 


reason 
bitter 


mischief 
exclaimed 


pasture 
sloping 


conch 
steam 


The  okl  apple 

tree     had     stood 

in    tlie    corner    of 

the    pasture    for    so 

many   years   that   no 


' '  one  could  tell  when 
it  was  planted. 
It  was  a  friendly  old  tree. 
;'  Under  its  branches  men  and  ani- 
mals found  pleasant  sliade.  In  the 
spring  it  gave  blossoms  to  all  that  came,  and 
in  the  fall  it  dropped  apples  at  their  feet. 

The  apple  tree  was  easy  to  climb,  as  Dick 
well  knew.  From  its  top  he  could  see  the 
sloping  hillside  and  the  little  brook  that 
flowed  through  the  pasture.  Indeed,  he 
spent  so  much  time  playing  in  the  old  tree 
that  his  father  often  said,  "Well,  Dick,  has 


32 

the  Apple-Tree  Mother  kept  you  out  of  mis- 
chief to-day?  " 

And  so  Dick  came  to  wonder  a  great  deal 
about  the  Apple-Tree  Mother. 

The  time  of  green  apples  had  come,  and  all 
day  long  a  hard  wind  had  been  blowing. 
When  supper  time  came  Dick  was  ill.  Perhaps 
the  apple  tree  could  have  told  the  reason. 

Dick  was  lying  on  the  couch,  and  his 
mother  was  busy  making  a  cup  of  tea  for 
him. 

After  he  had  taken  the  hot  and  bitter 
drink  he  lay  watching  the  steam  that  rose 
from  the  teakettle.  Just  as  he  was  closing 
his  eyes  in  sleep  the  steam  began  to  turn 
from  white  to  green.  Then  an  apple  tree 
grew  up  out  of  the  teakettle  and  stretched 
its  branches  to  the  ceiling. 

"  That  looks  like  the  apple  tree  in  the 
corner  of  our  pasture,"  thought  Dick. 

And  then  he  saw  a  Avoman  sitting  in  the 
midst  of  the  branches.  She  wore  a  dress 
that  was  green  and  brown,  like  the  apple- 
tree  leaves  in  the  fall. 


33 

"I  suppose  that  is  the  Apple-Tree  Mother," 
said  Dick  to  himself.  "  If  she  is  as  old  as 
our  tree,  she  must  be  very  old  indeed." 

Then  the  Apple-Tree  Mother  laughed  and 
all  the  leaves  of  the  tree  danced.  ''  My  little 
bov,"  she  said,  "  I  am  so  old  that  I  have 
grown  young  again,  and  I  bring  with  me 
pictures  and  stories  of  the  world  that  has 
lived  about  mv  tree." 

"  Pictures  and  stories  !  "  exclaimed  Dick. 
"Oh,  can't  vou  show  me  some  of  them? 

"  That  is  iust  whv  I  came  to  visit  vou, 
she  said.      "  Will  you  have  x^ictures  of  ani- 
mals or  of  flowers?" 

"  I  would  like  to  see  pictures  of  animals 
first,"  said  Dick. 

n. 

dusty  oriole  drooping  happen 

handled         sadness         whistling        joyous 

Then  the  room  changed  to  the  corner  of  the 
pasture.  There  was  the  fence  and  the  brook 
and  the  old  apple  tree.     Just  above  the  fence, 

3— 3r 


3-1 


half  hidden  in  the  branches,  was  a  nest  that 

held  five  tiny  eggs. 

The  sound  of  bird  voices  was  heard,  and  there 

in  the  tree  Dick  saw  two  orioles.     They  were 

singing  a  song  to- 
gether, and  somehow 
Dick  could  under- 
stand it  all.  They 
sang  of  their  little 
home  and  of  the  eggs 
tliat  lay  within  it. 
And  they  sang  of 
the  happy  time  when 
five  little  birds  would 
come    to    be    loved 

The  Orioles  Nest.  aud    CaTCd    for. 

Then  the  two  orioles  rose  slowly  into  the 
air  and  flew  across  the  field.  The  nest  was 
left  alone. 

Down  the  road  came  a  boy  whistling  and 
kicking  np  the  dust  with  every  step. 

Dick  began  to  feel  very  nnhappy,  for  he 
knew^  just  what  would  happen  next. 

The  boy  in  the  picture  looked  np  and  saw 


t 

l^ 

SL 

w 

^^r^^ 

¥^ 

Ik 

R 

mk^^^s^' 

BttjlKi  ^"'"  ^MJEa^ipB 

*> 

35 

the  brown  nest  among  the  leaves.  "  There 
is  an  oriole's  nest,"  thought  he.  And  in  a 
moment  he  had  climbed  the  tree,  and  the  five 
tiny  eggs  were  in  his  hand. 

"  I'll  take  them  home,"  he  said,  as  he  put 
the  eggs  into  his  pocket.  But  he  handled 
them  so  roughly  that  three  were  broken. 

With  an  angry  word  he  threw  all  the  eggs 
on  the  ground,  and  then  went  on  whistling 
and  kicking  up  the  dust. 

A  joyous  bird  song  was  heard  in  the  air, 
and  the  two  orioles  darted  into  the  apple 
tree.  The  mother  bird  flew  to  her  nest. 
Tlien  she  gave  a  cry  so  sharp  and  sad  that 
it  hurt  one's  heart  to  hear  it. 

The  father  bird  joined  the  poor  mother  in 
her  outcries  of  fright  and  sorrow.  There  on 
the  dusty  ground  lay  all  that  was  left  of  the 
beautiful  eggs. 

Far  across  the  field  flew  the  oriole  mother, 
almost  wild  with  sorrow.  The  father,  with 
his  feathers  drooping,  sat  on  a  fence  post, 
and  his  happy  songs  were  changed  to  notes 
of  sadness. 


m 


III. 


empty 
stolen 
howled 
second 


whining 
crooked 
rattling 
wounded 


shoulder 
cruelly 
pattering 
terrible 


weary 
shelter 
limping 
bano:ino; 


The  Apple-Tree  Mother  looked  very  grave, 
but  she  only  said,  "  Shall  w^e  have  another 
picture?  " 

Dick  was  afraid  to  say  ''No."  He  lay 
quite  still,  looking  at  the  apple  tree.  The 
rain  was  beginning  to'  beat  against  the 
leaves.  Then  he  saw  a  weary  little  dog  come 
limping  to  the  tree,  w^hining,  and  licking 
one  of  his  paws. 

He  was  not  a  handsome  dog.  His  legs 
were  crooked  and  one  ear  was  torn.  The 
branches  of  the  tree  bent  above  him.  And 
when  the  poor  dog  looked  up  at  their  shelter, 
one  could  see  how  big  and  soft  and  sad  were 
his  eyes. 

With  a  splashing  noise  two  boys  came 
wading  across  the  brook.  Each  boy  had  a 
fishing   pole   over   his    shoulder,   and  in  his 


37 

hand  was  a  small  tin  pail  in  wliicli  he  had 
carried  bait. 

As  they  came  toward  the  tree  one  of  them 
pointed  to  the  poor  little  dog.  It  was  the 
same  boy  that  had  stolen  the  oriole's  eggs. 


.-v^-^ 


4 


*'  Now  for  some  fun  !  "  he  said.  Then  both 
the  boys  sat  down  on  the  ground,  and  to 
work  they  went  with  a  fishing  line  and  one 
of  the  empty  pails. 

They  did  not  see  how  the  apple  tree  shook 
its  head  at  them.      They  did  not  hear  how 


38 

each  raindrop  called,  "No!  no!  no!"  as  it 
fell  pattering  on  the  leaves. 

The  poor  little  dog  lay  resting  under  the 
tree,  safe  from  the  storm.  All  at  once  he 
was  caught  and  held  by  rough  hands.  He 
howled  with  fright  and  pain,  but  he  could  not 
get  away.  A  strong  cord  was  bound  around 
his  thin  little  body,  and  his  wounded  foot 
was  sadly  hurt. 

At  last  the  boys  let  him  go,  and  with  a 
wild  bound  he  jumped  through  the  fence  and 
ran  along  the  road. 

But  oh,  what  terrible  thing  is  rattling  and 
banging  around  him?  At  every  leap  he  is 
cruelly  struck  on  his  crooked  little  legs. 

Dick  had  turned  his  head  the  other  way. 
His  cheeks  burned  and  his  heart  was  sad. 
Then  he  opened  his  eyes  and  saw  his  mother 
standing  beside  him  with  a  second  cup  of 
bitter  tea  in  her  hand. 

"  Such  a  nice  sleep  as  you  have  had,"  she 
said.  "  I  really  think  you  are  better.  Now 
sit  up  and  drink  this  like  a  man." 

Never  a  word  said  Dick.     He  sat  up  and 


39 

drank  the  bitter  tea,  while  he  thoimht  of 
many  thing's.  Had  he  seen  himself  in  the 
pictures  wliich  the  Apple-Tree  Mother  had 
brought  to  his  bedside? 

—  Adapted  from  "  True  Fairy  Stories." 

THE   DIAMOND   DIPPER 
I. 

rusty  narrow  farther  fern 

dipper  towered  suffering  brim 

dying  withered  carefully  spill 

Once  upon  a  time  it  was  very  hot  and 
very,  very  dry.  No  rain  had  fallen  for  days 
and  days.  The  thirsty  birds  had  stopped 
singing.  The  plants  withered  and  the  ani- 
mals were  dvino;  for  want  of  Avater.  All  the 
people  were  praying  for  rain. 

One  morning  a  little  girl  started  out  to  find 
some  water  for  her  sick  mother.  In  her  hand 
she  carried  a  tin  dipper. 

She  climbed  a  high  hill  hoping  to  find  a 
spring.  Up  and  up  she  climl^ed.  On  her 
way  she  saw  the  dusty  phints,  the  quiet 
birds,  and  the  suffering'  animals. 


40 


The  sharp  stones  cut  her  feet.  High  rochs 
towered  above  her  head.  Their  strange 
shapes  filled  her  with  fear.  But  she  thought 
of  her  sick  mother  and  she  would  not  turn 
back.  At  last  she  came  to  a  great  wall  of 
rocks,  and  could  go  no  farther. 

"  Oh,  that  some  good  fairy  would  show  me 
where  to  find  water!  "  she  cried. 

And  then  a  beautiful  fairy  stood  before  her 
in  a  robe  like  the  clouds  at  sunset.  She 
jjointed  to  a  narrow  path  among  the  rocks. 
The  child  followed  the  path  and  soon  came  to 
a  spring  hidden  under  green  fern  leaves. 


41 

She  filled  her  dipper  to  the  brim.  How 
carefully  she  held  it!  How  softly  she 
stepped,    so   as   not   to    spill  one    drop ! 

In  her  path  down  the  hill  there  lav  a 
rabbit  almost  dead  from  thirst.  The  little 
girl  needed  all  the  water,  but  she  poured  a 
few  drops  upon  the  rabbit's  tongue.  Then 
something  wonderful  ha|)pened!  The  rusty 
tin  dipper  was  changed  to  shining  silver. 

II. 

hurried         twinkle        garments         stranger 
precious        faithful        diamonds        ragged 

The  little  girl  hurried  home.  With  a 
happy  heart  she  gave  the  water  to  her  sick 
mother.  The  gentle  mother  raised  the  dip- 
per to  her  lips,  but  she  did  not  drink.  "My 
faithful  nurse,  let  her  drink  first,"  she  said. 

As  she  gave  the  silver  dipper  to  the  nurse, 
behold !  it  was  changed  to  yellow  gold. 

Again  the  mother  raised  the  water  to  her 
lips.  Just  then  a  shadow  fell  across  the 
floor.       In   the   open  doorway  stood  an  old 


42 

woman.  She  was  ragged  and  pale  and 
weak.  She  could  only  stretch  out  her  thin 
hand  toward  the  water.  i 

The  mother  and  the  little  girl  looked  at 
each  other.  Could  they  give  up  the  last  drop 
of  the  precious  water?  The  mother  nodded 
her  head,  and  the  little  girl  put  the  golden 
dipper  into  tlie  hands  of  the  stranger. 

The  poor  old  woman  took  the  water  and 
drank  it  all.  As  she  drank,  her  rags  were 
cliano:ed  into  beautiful  garments,  and  the 
dipper  sparkled  with  diamonds. 

"  Oh,  mother,  look  !  There  is  the  fairy  I  saw 
in  the  mountains,"  cried  the  little  girl.  "And 
see  !     The  dipper  shines  like  diamonds !  " 

They  looked  again,  but  the  fairy  w^as  gone. 
It  was  not  long  before  clouds  spread  over  the 
sky,  and  a  gentle  rain  began  to  fall.  Soon 
there  was  water  for  all  the  plants,  the  birds, 
the  animals,  and  the  people. 

But  the  dipper  could  not  anywhere  be 
found.  Night  came,  and  the  little  girl  looked 
up  at  the  stars.  There,  in  the  sky,  she  saw 
the  dipper  shining  like  diamonds. 


43 

And  now,  when  the  evening  stars  twinkle 
overhead,  the  mothers  point  out  the  great 
dipper  in  the  northern  sky  and  tell  this  story 
to  their  children. 

"  Is  the  story  true  ? "  the  children  ask 
when  the  tale  is  ended. 

And  the  mothers  smile  as  they  answer :  — 

"  When  von  can  tell  what  the  storv  means, 
vou  will  know  that  it  is  true." 


BEAUTIFUL   THINGS 

Beautiful  hands  are  those  that  do 
Work  that  is  earnest,  brave,  and  true, 
Moment  bv  moment,  the  lono;  dav  throudi. 

Beautiful  feet  are  those  that  ao 

On  kindlv  errands  to  and  fro  — 

Down  humblest  ways,  if  God  wills  it  so. 

Beautiful  faces  are  those  that  wear — • 
It  matters  little  if  dark  or  fair  — 
Whole-souled  honesty  printed  there. 

—  David  Swixg. 


44 


MY   COUNTRY 


From  sea  to  sea  my  country  lies 
Beneath  the  splendor  of  the  skies. 

Far  reach  its  plains,  its  hills  are  high, 
Its  mountains  look  up  to  the  sky. 

Its  lakes  are  clear  as  crystal  bright, 

Its  rivers  sweep  through  vale  and  height. 

America,  my  native  land, 

To  thee  I  give  my  heart  and  hand. 

God  in  His  might  chose  thee  to  be 
The  country  of  the  noble  free ! 

—  Marie  Zetterberg. 
MY   OWN   LAND   FOREVER 

Land  of  the  forest  and  the  rock, 

Of  dark  blue  lake  and  mighty  river, 
Of  mountains  reared  on  high  to  mock 
The  storm's  career  and  lightning's  shock, 
My  own  green  land  forever ! 

—  John  Greenleap  Whittier. 


46 


HOME,   SWEET   HOME 

'Mid  pleasures  and  palaces,  tliougli  we  may 

roam, 
Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there's  no  place  like 

home ; 
A  charm  from  the  skies  seems  to  hallow  us 

there, 
Which,   seek  through  the  world,   is  not  met 

with  elsewhere. 

An    exile    from    home,    si)lendor    dazzles   in 

vain  ; 
Oh,    give    me    my    lowly    thatched    cottage 

again ; 
The  birds    singing   gayly,   that  came  at  my 

call ; 
Give  me  them,  and  that  peace  of  mind,  dearer 

than  all. 

Home,  home,  sweet,  sweet  home, 
There's  no  place  like  home, 
Oh,  there's  no  place  like  home. 

—  John  Howard  Payxe. 


46 


The  peaches  are  ripe  in  the  orchard, 

Tlie  apricots  ready  to  fall, 
And  the  grapes  reach  up  to  the  sunshine 


Over  the  garden  wall. 


Thomas  Bailey  Aldkich. 


The  morns  are  meeker  than  they  were, 

The  nuts  are  getting  brown, 
The  berry's  cheek  is  plumper, 

The  rose  is  out  of  town. 

—  Emily  Dickinson. 


47 


OCTOBER 

October  glows  on  every  tree, 
October  'shines  in  every  eye, 

While  up  the  hill  and  down  the  dale 
Her  crimson  banners  flv. 

—  DoKA  Read  Goodale. 


'  '^^^ 


NOVEMBER 

Nuts  are  falling,  trees  are  bare, 
Leaves  are  whirlino;  evervwhere  ; 
Plants  are  sleeping,  birds  have  flown, 
Autumn  breezes  cooler  grown, 
In  the  chill  November. 


48 


AN   AUTUMN    RIDDLE 

They  are  seen  on  the  trees, 

Tliey  are  seen  on  the  ground, 
They  are  seen  in  the  air, 

Whirling  softly  around ; 
They  sing  rustling  songs 

As  our  footsteps  they  hear, 
And  their  name  is  well  known, 

For  they  come  every  year. 

LEAVES   AT  PLAY 

Scamper,  little  leaves,  about 

In  the  autumn  sun  ; 
I  can  hear  the  old  wind  shout, 

Laughing  as  you  run ; 
And  I  haven't  any  doubt 

That  he  likes  the  fun. 

So  run  on  and  have  your  play, 
Romp  Avith  all  your  might ; 

Dance  across  the  autumn  day. 
While  the  sun  is  bright. 


49 

Soon  you'll  hear  the  old  wind  say, 
"Little  leaves,  good  night!  " 

—  Fraxk  Dempster  Sherman. 
WHERE   GO   THE   BOATS 

Dark  brown  is  the  river, 

Golden  is  the  sand ; 
It  flows  along  forever, 

With  trees  on  either  hand. 

Green  leaves  a-floating. 

Castles  of  the  foam, 
Boats  of  mine  a-boatino;  — 

When  will  all  come  home  ? 

On  goes  the  river, 

And  out  past  the  mill. 

Away  down  the  valley, 
Awav  down  the  hill. 

Away  down  the  river, 

A  hundred  miles  or  more, 

Other  little  children 

Shall  bring  my  boats  ashore, 

—  Robert  Louis  Stevexson. 

■1— 3r 


50 


THE   CORN   SONG 


Heap  high  the  farmer's  wintry  hoard! 

Heap  high  the  golden  corn ! 
No  richer  gift  has  Autumn  poured 

From  out  her  lavish  horn. 

Through  vales  of  grass  and  meads  of  flowers. 
Our  plows  their  furrows  made, 

While  on  the  hills  the  sun  and  showers 
Of  changeful  April  played. 

We  dropped  the  seed  o'er  hill  and  plain, 

Beneath  the  sun  of  Mav, 
And  frightened  from  our  sprouting  grain 

The  robber  crows  away. 

All  through  the  long,  bright  days  of  June 
Its  leaves  grew  green  and  fair, 

And  waved  in  hot  midsummer's  noon 
Its  soft  and  yellow  hair. 

And  now,  with  Autumn's  moonlit  eves, 

Its  harvest  time  has  come, 
We  pluck  away  the  frosted  leaves 

And  bear  the  treasure  home. 

~  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 


52 


SHAPES    OF    LEAVES 


notice 
veined 


passages 
dandelion 


fingers 
currant 


peach 
pipes 


Did  a'ou  ever  talN:e  a  feather  in 
your  hand  and  look  at  it?  Did 
you  notice  how  the  quill  keeps 
the  feather  in  shape  and  makes 
it  strong  ? 

Now  find  the  leaf  of  an  apple 
tree.  Hold  it  before  your  eyes  and 
let  the  light  shine  through  it. 
Do  you  see  the  large  rib  run- 
ning along  the  middle  of  the  leaf?  Do  you 
see  the  line  ribs  on  each  side  of  the  large 
rib  ?  Does  not  the  large  rib  make  you  think 
of  the  quill  of  a  feather  ? 

The  ribs  of  a  leaf  have  fine  passages  or 
pipes  in  them  through  which  the  sap  flows. 
These  passages  are  called  veins,  and  the  large 
rib  is  called  a  mid  vein.  When  a  leaf  has 
one  strong  midvein  like  the  quill  of  a  feather, 
it  is  said  to  be  feather- veined. 


53 

Let  us  go  out  of  doors  and  find  leaves  that 
are  shaped  like  feathers. 

There  is  a  peach  tree.  Pick  a  leaf  and 
look  at  it.  Yes,  the  peach  leaf  is  feather- 
veined.  Now  go  to  the  pear  tree.  "These 
leaves  look  like  the  apple  leaves,"  you  say. 

Here  is  a  dandelion  plant  growing  in  the 
grass.     Take  a  leaf  in  your  hand  and  look  at 


its  ragged  edges.  There  is  one  straight  rib 
or  vein  along  the  middle  of  the  leaf.  And  so 
vou  see  that  the  dandelion  leaf  is  also  feather- 
veined. 

You  can  find  feather-veined  leaves  on  the 
plants  in  the  garden  and  on  the  fiower  stems 
that  grow  in  our  window  boxes.  And  you 
can  also  find  feather-veined  leaves  on  the 
weeds  that  o:row  bv  the  side  of  the  road. 


64 


Look  again  at  the  apple  leaf.  Do  you  see 
the  line  network  of  veins?  Now  take  up  a 
leaf  of  grass  and  hold  it  in  the  light.  Can 
you  see  a  network  of  yeins  in  it?  No,  the 
grass  leaf  has  straight  veins. 

All  the  grass  blades  are  long  and  narrow. 
Have  you  ever  seen  any  other  leaves  that  were 


'^ 


long  and  narrow  like 


fne^ 


^' 


i^ 


V 


the  grass? 

But  what  is  this 
leaf  under  the  maple 
tree?  "  It  is  a  maple 
leaf,"  you  sav.  This 
leaf  is  not  shaped 
like  a  feather. 
Hold  out  your  hand  and  stretch  out  your 
fingers.  Does  not  the  maple  leaf  look  as  if  it 
had  fingers,  too?  We  may  call  the  maple 
leaf  a  hand-shai)ed  leaf.  Perhaps  we  can 
find  more  hand-shaped  leaves.  Let  us  go  to 
the  currant  bushes.  Yes,  these  also  have 
hand-shaped  leaves. 

One  of  the  strangest  leaves  in  the  world  is 
shaped   like   a   pitcher.     It   has   a   lid   that 


65 

opens  and  shuts.     Some  leaves  of  this  kind 
liold  more  than  a  cup  of  water. 

There  are  leaves  shaped  like  hearts  and 
leaves  shaped  like  arrowheads.  And  there 
are  many  other  wonderful  leaves  which  we 
may  see  if  we  keep  our  eyes  open. 


ff^. 


-  ■v 

\ 


^\^^. 


Green  leaves,  what  are  you  doing 
Up  there  on  the  tree  so  high  ? 

"  We  are  shaking  hands  with  the  breezes, 
As  they  go  singing  by.  " 

What,  ffreen  leaves !  have  vou  fingers  ? 

ThC^n,  the  maple  laughed  with  glee  — 
"  Yes,  just  as  many  as  you  have ; 

Count  them,  and  you  will  see  !  " 

—  Kate  Louise  linowN. 


56 


DOGS   THAT   ALMOST   TALK 


human 


scratched 


tinkled 


be2;o:ed 


humhle         drowning         cottage  wagged 

It  seems  as  if  onr  friend  the  dog  can  talk 
without  using  words.  He  not  only  makes 
other  dogs  understand  him,  but  he  also 
makes  his  w^ants  known  to  his  master. 

A  little  dog  named  Rudy  was  once  taken 
to  the  city.  One  day  he  lost  his  way  in  the 
streets  and  did  not  come  home  at  night. 


57 

Tlie  next  morning,  as  Eudy's  master  was 
looking  out  of  tlie  window,  he  saw  liis  little 
dog  coming  along  the  street  with  two  other 
dogs. 

The  strangers  left  Eudy  at  his  own  door, 
and  then  went  away.  As  they  left  they 
seemed  to  say,  "  Good-by."  But  how  did 
Eudy  ask  the  other  doas  to  show  him  the 
way  home?     This  we  should  like  to  know. 

Another  dog  called  Prince  often  asked  in 
his  own  way  to  be  let  out  of  doors.  But 
when  he  returned  he  could  not  always  get 
into  the  house  again. 

The  bell  was  too  high  for  Prince  to  reach 
it  or  he  might  haye  learned  to  ring  it.  As 
he  could  not  do  this  he  found  another  way  to 
get  in.  A  little  girl  who  liyed  near  by  often 
played  with  him.  He  ran  to  her  and  begged 
until  she  saw  what  he  wanted.  This  he  did 
day  after  day. 

After  the  little  girl  had  rung  the  bell  for 
him,  Prince  neyer  foraot  to  thank  her.  He 
jumped  around  her  and  wagged  his  tail  to 
show  his  pleasure. 


58 

One  day  Prince  could  not  find  his  little 
friend.  So  he  begged  a  man  who  was  pass- 
ing by  to  ring  the  bell.  It  was  some  time 
before  the  man  could  understand  what  the 
dog  wanted.  But  at  last  the  bell  tinkled, 
the  door  was  opened,  and  Prince  ran  into 
the  house. 

A  faithful  dog  never  forgets  those  he  loves. 
Sometimes  he  proves  to  be  a  good  friend  in 
time  of  great  need. 

One  night  a  fire  broke  out  in  a  shed  close 
by  a  little  cottage.  The  watchdog  saw  the 
flames.  He  ran  to  the  cottage  and  began  to 
scratch  the  door  with  his  paws.  He  scratched 
and  liowled  until  he  woke  tlie  familv. 

After  the  fire  had  been  put  out  the  chil- 
dren put  their  arms  around  the  faithful  dog. 
They  patted  him  and  thanked  him  for  saving 
their  lives.  They  treated  him  as  if  he  were 
a  human  being  instead  of  only  a  dog. 

There  are  many  true  stories  about  dogs 
that  have  saved  the  lives  of  children.  A 
great  artist  has  painted  a  beautiful  picture 
of  one  of  these  noble  animals. 


59 

A  dog  lias  jumped  into  the  sea  and  saved 
a  child  from  drowning.  He  has  canght  the 
chiUVs  clothes  iii  his  strong  jaws,  and  has 
brought  her  to  the  shore. 

See,  he  is  almost  too  tired  to  climb  up 
beside  her !     Tliere  she  lies  on  his  big  paws. 


He  seems  to  be  Avaiting  for  help.     Does  he 
not  look  as  if  he  could  speak? 

The  artist  who  painted  this  picture  was  a 
o;reat  friend  of  doQ-s.  His  name  was  Edwin 
Landseer.  He  has  made  hundreds  of  paint- 
ino:s  of  his  humble  friends.  Many  of  the  dogs 
in  his  pictures  look  as  if  they  could  talk. 


60 


A   LITTLE   GIRL'S   FANCIES 

0  LITTLE  flowers,  you  love  me  so, 
You  could  not  do  without  me ; 

0  little  birds  that  come  and  go. 
You  sing  sweet  songs  about  me ; 

0  little  moss,  observed  by  few. 
That  round  the  tree  is  creeping, 

You  like  my  head  to  rest  on  you, 
When  I  am  idly  sleei)ing. 

0  rushes  by  the  river  side. 

You  bow  w^hen  I  come  near  you ; 

0  fish,  you  leap  about  with  pride, 
Because  you  think  I  hear  you  ;^ 

0  river,  you  shine  clear  and  bright, 
To  tempt  me  to  look  in  you ; 

0  water  lilies,  pure  and  white, 
You  hope  that  I  shall  win  you. 

0  pretty  things,  you  love  me  so, 
I  see  I  must  not  leave  you ; 

You'd  find  it  very  dull,  I  know, 
I  should  not  like  to  grieve  you. 


61 


A   BOY'S    WISHES 


RiXG-TiNG !  I  wish  I  were  a  primrose, 
A  bright  yellow  primrose,  blooming  in  the 
spring ! 
The  stooi^ing  bough  above  me, 
The  wandering  bee  to  love  me, 
The  fern  and  moss  to  creep  across, 
And  the  elm  tree  for  our  king ! 

Xay,  stay  !  I  wish  I  were  an  elm  tree, 
A  great,  lofty  elm  tree  with  green  leaves  gay! 
The  winds  would  set  them  dancing, 
The  sun  and  moonshine  glance  in, 
And  birds  would  house  among  the  boughs, 
And  sweetly  sing. 

-Oh,  no !   I  wish  I  were  a  robin  — 

A  robin,  or  a  little  wren,  everywhere  to  go. 

Through  forest,  field,  or  garden, 

And  ask  no  leave  or  pardon. 
Till  winter  comes,  with  icy  thumbs. 

To  ruffle  up  our  wing ! 

—  William  Allingham. 


62 


ROLLO   AND    GEORGE 


scream 

hurting 

pushing 


frightened 

frightening 

wheelbarrow 


directly        treat 
opposite       liarsh 
enemies       tomtit 


One  day  Kollo  and  his  playmate,  George 
Cropwell,  were  running  along  the  road,  push- 
ing their  little  w^heelbarrows. 

Just  as  they  came 
near  George's  home 
they  saw  before  them 
a  little  boy  much 
smaller  than  Rollo.  He 
was  ragged  and  bare- 
footed. 

"  There  is  Tom,"  said 
George.     "  See  how  I  will  frighten  him." 

As  he  said  this,  George  rolled  his  wheel- 
barrow directly  toward  Tom  as  if  he  were 
going  to  run  over  him.  Tom  was  very  much 
frightened  and  began  to  scream. 

Just    at    that    moment    Farmer    Cropwell 


63 

happened  to  be  coming  up  tlie  lane  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  road.     He  called  out,  — 

"  George !  " 

George  stopped  his  wheelbarrow. 

"Is  that  right  ?  "  said  the  farmer. 

"  Why,  I  was  not  going  to  hurt  him,"  said 
George. 

"You  did  hurt  him,  —  you  frightened 
him." 

"  Is  frightening  him  hurting  him,  father  ?  " 

"Why,  yes;  it  is  giving  pain,  and  a  very 
unpleasant  kind  of  pain,  too." 

"  I  did  not  think  of  that,"  said  George. 

"  Besides,"  said  his  father,  "  when  you 
treat  boys  in  that  harsh,  rough  way  you 
make  them  your  enemies.  And  it  is  a  very 
bad  plan  to  make  enemies." 

"Enemies,  father!  "  said  George,  laughing; 
"  Tom  could  not  do  me  any  harm  if  he  were 
my  enemy." 

"  That  makes  me  think  of  the  story  of  the 
bear  and  the  tomtit,"  said  the  farmer.  "  If 
you  and  Rollo  will  jump  into  the  cart  I  Avill 

tell  it  to  you."  —Jacob  Abbott. 


64 

THE   FARMER'S   STORY 
I. 

wolf  distance  impatient  breathe 

poked       scrambled       intending  pressed 

terror       perhaps  troublesome       punish 

One  pleasant  summer  morning  a  wolf  met 
a  bear  in  a  lonely  wood.  In  a  tree  near  by, 
a  bird  was  singing. 

''Brother,"  said  the  bear,  "that  is  very 
good  singing,  indeed.  What  kind  of  bird  do 
you  think  it  is?  " 

"  That  is  a  tomtit,"  said  the  wolf. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  his  nest.  Where  do 
you  think  it  is?  "  asked  the  bear. 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  see  if  we  wait  until  liis 
mate  comes  home,"  said  the  wolf. 

Soon  the  mother  bird  came  flying  with 
some  food  in  her  mouth  for  her  children.  Slie 
went  to  the  tree  where  her  mate  was  singing. 

"  Now,  I  shall  climb  the  tree,"  said  the  bear. 

"  Not  yet,"  said  the  wolf.  "Wait  until  the 
birds  leave  the  nest." 


65 

They  walked  away  for  some  distance,  but 
soon  returned,  for  tlie  bear  was  impatient  to 
see  the  nest.  He  scrambled  up  the  tree,  in- 
tending to  frighten  the  young  birds. 

"  Take  care,"  said  the  wolf.  ''  The  tomtits 
are  very  little,  but  little  enemies  are  some- 
times very  troublesome." 

"  Who  is  afraid  of  a  tomtit  ?  "  said  the  bear, 
as  he  poked  his  black  nose  into  the  nest. 

"  Go  away  !  go  away!  "  screamed  the  poor 
little  birds  in  terror. 

"  "What  do  you  mean  by  making  such  a 
noise  and  talking  so  to  me  ?  "  said  the  bear. 
"  I  will  teach  you  better  manners." 

So  he  put  his  great  paw  on  the  nest  and 
pressed  it  down  until  the  poor  little  birds 
could  hardly  breathe.  Then  he  left  them  and 
went  away. 

The  young  tomtits  were  terribly  frightened, 
and  some  of  them  were  hurt.  When  the  old 
birds  came  home  they  were  very  angry. 

They  could  see  the  bear  walking  about 
among  the  trees,  but  they  did  not  know  how 
to  punish  him. 

5 — ?.n 


66 


II. 


peeped        prudent         followed  toward 

flutter  whether         surrounded        nailed 

escape         prowling        overlooked         paused 

Not  far  away  there  was  a  glen,  surrounded 
by  high  rocks,  where  the  bear  used  to  go  to 
sleep  because  it  w^as  a  lonely  place. 

One  day,  as  he  was  prowling  in  the  woods, 
he  saw  two  hunters  coining  with  their  guns. 
In  fright,  he  fled  to  his  glen,  where  he  thought 
he  should  be  safe. 

The  tomtits  saw  the  bear  run  to  the  rocks 
and  hide  in  terror. 

''Why  is  the  bear  hiding?"  said  one  bird 
to  the  other. 

"Do  you  see  those  hunters  with  their 
guns?"  said  the  mother  tomtit.  "If  only 
they  can  find  the  bear,  then  our  little  ones 
will  be  safe.     Let  us  help  them." 

So  the  tomtits  began  to  flutter  around  the 
hunters  and  fly  a  little  way  toward  the  glen 
and  then  back  again.  The  men  followed  the 
birds  to  see  what  could  be  the  matter. 


67 

By  and  by  the  bear  saw  tlie  liimters  com- 
ins:,  led  on  by  his  little  enemies,  the  tomtits. 
He  ran  from  one  side  of  the  glen  to  the  other. 
He  hid  himself  in  a  cave  among  the  rocks. 
But  he  could  not  escape  the  hunters. 

The  wolf  happened  to  be  near  by  upon  the 
rocks  that  overlooked  the  glen.  Hearing  the 
noise,  he  came  and  peeped  over. 

As  soon  as  he  saw  what  had  happened  to 
the  bear,  he  thought  it  would  be  prudent  for 
him  to  walk  away.  This  he  did,  saying  to 
himself  as  he  went :  — 

"  Well,  the  bear  has  found  out  that  a  friend 
is  better  than  an  enemy,  whether  he  is  great 
or  small." 

Here  the  farmer  paused.  He  had  ended 
his  storv. 

"  What  did  thev  do  with  the  bear  ?  "  asked 
Rollo. 

"Oh,"  said  the  farmer,  "they  took  off  his 
skin  to  make  caps  of,  and  nailed  his  claws 
up  on  the  barn." 

—  Jacob   Abbott. 


68 


THE    DOG   AND    HIS   IMAGE 


snap 

image 

behold 

jaws 

piece 

within 

plainly 

greed 

snatch 

bottom 

hurrying 

plank 

A  DOG,  with  a  piece  of  meat  in  his  mouth, 
was  hurrying  home  to  eat  his  supper  in  quiet. 
On  his  way  he  had  to  pass  over  a  narrow 
plank  which  lay  across  a  small  stream. 

As  he  looked  down  into  the  water  he  saw 
his  own  image  in  the  smooth  surface  of  the 
brook.  This,  he  thought,  was  another  dog 
with  a  larger  piece  of  meat  in  his  mouth. 

He  put  his  head  down  near  the  water. 
Behold,  the  meat,  which  the  other  dog  car- 
ried, was  plainly  within  his  reach. 

''  Now,  I  shall  have  a  fine  dinner,"  he 
thought.  And  with  a  quick  snap  of  his  jaws, 
he  tried  to  snatch  the  meat  from  the  dog  in 
the  water. 

But  as  he  opened  his  mouth,  his  own  piece 
of  meat  fell  to  the  bottom  of  the  brook.  And 
thus,  by  greed,  he  lost  all  that  he  had. 


69 


BELLING   THE   CAT 


quiet 
danger 


easily 
enemy 


manner 
coming 


sly 

chief 


Once  upon  a  time  some  mice  met  together 
to  find  a  way  to  save  themselves  from  their 
enemv,  the  cat. 

"  I  have  a  plan,"  said 
a  young  mouse,  "which 
will  save  the  life  of  every 
one  of  us.  You  all  know 
that  our  chief  danger  lies 
in  the  cat's  sly  and  quiet 
manner  of  walking.  If 
we  could  hear  her  com- 
ing, we  could  easily  run 
awav. 

"  Let  us  hang  a  bell 
to  the  cat's  neck,  and  when  we  hear  it  ring 
we  shall  all  know  that  she  is  near." 

"  A  fine  plan !   a  fine  plan  !  "  cried  all  the 
mice.     "  But  who  will  bell  the  cat?  " 

"  Not  I,  not  I,"  cried  all  the  mice  at  once. 


70 


THE   DOG   IN   THE   MANGER 

chose  manger  growled  pair 

oxen  feeding  mouthful  meal 

A  DOG  once  chose  to  make  his  l)ed  in  a 
manger  full  of  hay.  Now  this  manger  was 
the  feeding  place  of  a  pair  of  oxen  who 
worked  hard  in  the  fields  all  day. 

When  the  tired  beasts  came  for  their  eve- 
ninsf  meal,  the  dos:  G:rowled  and  showed  his 
teeth.  He  could  not  eat  the  hay  himself,  and 
he  would  not  let  the  oxen  have  so  much  as  a 
mouthful  of  it.   . 

^SOP. 


A   WISE   INDIAN 
lazy  angry  observe  stool 


passes 


owner  answered  short 


An  Indian  boy  sees  many  things  which  a 
white  boy  passes  by  without  seeing.  Can 
you  tell  why? 

The  Indian  boy  is  taught  to  look  at  things 


71 

closely,  and  to  think  about  everything  he  sees. 
He  learns  to  observe.  Here  is  a  good  story 
of  an  Indian  who  was  trained  to  use  his  eyes 
when  he  was  young. 

An  old  Indian  once  lived  in  a  village 
among  white  people.  His  little  hut  was 
near  the  woods.  A  white  man  lived  alone 
in  a  cabin  near  by. 

One  night  the  white  man  came  home  late 
from  his  work  in  the  tlelds.  He  had  left 
a  bao;  of  corn  hanging  in  his  cabin.  Some 
one  had  taken  it. 

He  was  verv  ansiry.  "  That  lazv  Indian 
who  lives  in  the  hut  has  stolen  mv  corn,"  he 
told  his  neighbors. 

"  Send  for  the  Indian  and  let  liim  speak 
for  himself,"   said  one  of  the  neighbors. 

When  the  Indian  came  he  said,  "  I  did  not 
take  your  corn." 

''If  vou  did  not  take  mv  corn,  who  did?" 
asked  the  anarv   man. 

"  I  can  not  tell  you  his  name,"  the  Indian 
answered.  "  I  have  never  seen  him,  but 
I  can  tell  you  something  about  him. 


72 

"Your  corn  was  stolen  by  a  Avhite  man. 
He  is  an  old  man,  and  he  is  a  short  man." 

One  of  the  neighbors  had  seen  a  little  old 
man.  He  was  going  to  the  woods  with  a 
bag  on  his  back. 

They  went  out  to  hunt  for  him.  Soon  he 
was  found,  and  the  bag  of  corn  was  returned 
to  its  owner. 

How  could  the  Indian  tell  who  had  taken 
the  corn?     Every  one  wanted  to  know. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  said  the  Indian.  "  I 
knew  that  the  thief  was  an  old  man  from 
the  heavy  mark  of  his  feet  in  the  earth. 
A  young  man's  step  is  much  lighter. 

"  I  knew  he  was  a  white  man  because  he 
turned  his  toes  out  when  he  walked.  An 
Indian  does  not  walk  in  that  way. 

"  Did    you  not    see   that   he    stood   on   a^ 
stool  to  reach  the  bag  of  corn?     This  shows 
that  he  was  a  short  man." 

"  Now  see,"  said  the  neighbors.  "  If  you 
had  kept  your  eyes  open  as  the  Indian  keeps 
his  open,  you  would  not  have  said  that  he 
stole  your  corn.' 


7? 


73 


CLOVERNOOK 


group 
hymns 


cottage 
daughter 


repeating 
sweetbrier 


merry         gathered       old-fashioned 


sugar 
cellar 
saucer 


One  summer  morning,  a  merry  group  of 
children  was  helping  to  make  hay  in  one  of 
the    Clover- 
nook      hay 
fields. 

Not  far 
away  stood  a 
little  brown 
house  in  the 
cool  shade  of 
cherry  trees 
and  apple  trees.  A  sweetbrier  clambered 
over  the  windows,  and  in  the  dooryard  grew 
bushes  of  large  red  roses. 

Near  the  house  Avas  a  deep  well  of  clear,  cold 
water.  An  old-fashioned  well  sweep  was  used 
to  draw  up  the  water,  as  you  see  in  the  picture. 

This   was    the    Clovernook    home.       Here 


74 


liv6d  the  merry  children  who  were  helping 
in  the  hayfield,  and  there  were  nine  of  them. 
What  if  the  house  was  small?  There  was 
the  barn  in  wliich  they  coidd  play,  and  there 


'•  He  liked  to  gather  his  children  around  him." 

were  the    fields    and   woods    in    which   they 
could  wander. 

They  thought  their  gentle,  blue-eyed  mother 
the  most  beautiful  woman  in  the  world.  Their 
father  was  one  of  the  kindest  of  men.  Every 
child  loved  him,  and  the  horses  and  the  cows 
followed  him  all  over  the  farm. 


75 

He  loved  books,  and  went  about  liis  work 
repeating  tine  old  hymns  and  lines  from  grand 
poems.  In  the  long  winter  evenings  he  liked 
to  gather  his  children  around  him  before  the 
open  fire.  Then  he  told  them  wonderful 
stories  of   the   olden   time. 

The  Clovernook  children  learned  to  know 
the  flowers  and  the  trees  by  name,  and  to 
tell  the  birds  by  their  songs.  In  the  spring 
they  boiled  sap  for  maple  sugar.  In  the 
fall  they  gathered  nuts,  and  helped  store 
away  the  apples  in  the  cellar. 

There  were  two  daughters  of  the  Clovernook 
household  who  liked  nothing  so  well  as  their 
books.  Thev  went  to  school  when  their  mother 
could  spare  them  from  the  work  of  the  home. 
At  night  they  often  wished  to  study,  but  they 
had  no  lamp.  So  they  put  some  lard  into  a 
saucer  and  used  a  piece  of  cloth  for  a  wick. 

Year  after  year  these  two  girls  spent  all 
their  spare  moments  in  reading  and  study. 
What  thev  did  when  thev  were  older,  and 
how  thev  came  to  be  called  the  Poet  Sisters, 
vou  shall  soon  learn. 


76 


THE   POET   SISTERS 

Alice  Clovernook       post  office        print 

Phoebe       Cincinnati        newspaper       parties 

The  Clovernook 
cottage  was  the 
home  of  the  Cary 
family,  and  the 
Poet  Sisters  were 
Alice  Cary  and 
Phoebe  Cary. 

While  the  sis- 
ters were  still  little 
girls,  they  began 
to  w^rite  verses. 
Phoebe  was  but 
Alice  Gary.  fourtccn  ycars  old 

when  she  sent  her  first  poem  to  a  newspaper. 
She  told  no  one,  not  even  her  sister  Alice, 
what  she  had  done. 

At  last  her  father  brought  the  paper  from 
the  post  office.  When  Phoebe  saw  her  poem 
in  print  she  was  so  happy  that  she  laughed 


T7 


and  cried.  After  that,  she  did  not  care  if  her 
clothes  were  plain,  or  if  she  could  not  go  to 
school  as  much  as  she  wished. 

The  Clovernook  home  was  near  Cincinnati, 
Ohio.  When  Alice  and  Phoebe  grew  older 
they  left  the  home  of  their  childhood  and 
went  to  live  in  New 
York  city. 

.  Thev  were  uoav 
able  to  earn  money 
by  writing  stories  and 
poems  for  books  and 
papers.  At  last  they 
could  make  their 
home  beautiful  with 
the  books  and  pic- 
tures which  they  had 
so  long  wished  for. 

Alice  and  Phoebe 
loved  children,  and  they  wrote  many  beauti- 
ful verses  for  their  little  friends.  In  their 
charming  stories  they  tell  us  about  their  life 
in  Clovernook,  and  of  their  plays  in  haytield 
and  barn. 


Phoebe  Gary. 


78 


OUR   HOMESTEAD 

OiR  old  brown  homestead  reared  its  walls 

From  the  wayside  dust  aloof, 
Where  the  apple  boughs  could  almost  cast 

Their  fruit  upon  its  roof ; 

And  the  cherry  tree  so  near  it  grew 

That  when  awake  I've  lain, 
In  the  lonesome  nights,  I've  heard  the  limbs 

As  they  creaked  against  the  pane. 

The  sweetbrier,  under  the  window  sill, 
Which  the  early  birds  made^  glad, 

And  the  damask  rose,  by  the  garden  fence, 
Were  all  the  flowers  we  had. 

We  had  a  well,  a  deep  old  well, 
Where  the  spring  was  never  dry, 

And  the  cool  drops  down  from  the  mossy  stones 
Were  falling  constantly. 

And  there  never  was  water  half  so  SAveet 
As  the  draft  which  filled  my  cup. 

Drawn  up  to  the  curb  by  the  rude  old  sweep 
That  my  father's  hand  set  up. 

—  Phcebe  Gary. 


79 


SUPPOSE 


Suppose,  my  little  lady, 

Your  doll  should  break  her  head, 
Could  YOU  make  it  whole  bv  crying 

Till  your  eyes  and  nose  are  red  ? 
And  wouldn't  it  be  pleasanter 

To  treat  it  as  a  joke, 
And  say  you're  glad  'twas  dolly's 

And  not  your  head  that  broke  ? 

Suppose  you're  dressed  for  walking, 

And  the  rain  comes  pouring  down, 
Will  it  clear  off  any  sooner 

Because  you  scold  and  frown? 
And  wouldn't  it  be  better 

For  you  to  smile  than  pout, 
And  so  make  sunshine  in  the  house, 

When  there  is  none  without? 

Suppose  your  task,  my  little  man- 
Is  very  hard  to  get, 

Will  it  make  it  any  easier 
For  you  to  sit  and  fret? 


80 

And  wouldn't  it  be  wiser 

Than  waiting  like  a  dunce, 
To  go  to  work  in  earnest 

And  learn  the  thing  at  once  ? 

Suppose  the  world  doesn't  please  you, 

Nor  the  way  some  peojjle  do, 
Do  you  think  the  whole  creation 

"Will  be  altered  just  for  you? 
And  isn't  it,  my  boy  or  girl, 

The  wisest,  bravest  plan 
Whatever  comes  or  doesn't  come, 

To  do  tbe  best  you  can  ? 

—  Phcebe  Gary. 


THE   RIGHT   WAY 

The  air  for  the  wing  of  the  sparrow, 
The  bush  for  the  robin  and  wren. 

But  always  the  path  that  is  narrow 
And  straight,  for  the  children  of  men. 

—  Alice  Cart. 


81 


NOVEMBER 

HE  leaves  are  fading  and  falling, 
The  winds  are  rough  and  wild, 

The  birds  have  ceased  their  calling, 
But  let  me  tell  you,  my  child, 

Though  day  by  day,  as  it  closes. 
Doth  darker  and  colder  grow, 

The  roots  of  the  bright  red  roses 
Will  keep  alive  in  the  snow. 

And  when  the  winter  is  over, 
The  boughs  will  get  new  leaves, 

The  quail  come  back  to  the  clover, 
And  the  swallow  back  to  the  eaves. 

The  robin  will  wear  on  his  bosom 
A  vest  that  is  bright  and  new. 

And  the  loveliest  wayside  blossom 
Will  shine  with  the  sun  and  dew. 

So,  wiien  some  dear  joy  loses 
Its  beauteous  summer  glow. 

Think  how  the  roots  of  the  roses 
Are  kept  alive  in  the  snow. 

—  Alice  Cary. 


C oK 


82 

COLUMBUS   IN   THE   NEW  WORLD 
haste  remained        different  gentle 


spread        orcliard 
bodies        paddled 


delio'hted 
ornaments 


cotton 
natives 


Columbus  in  the  New  World. 

When  Columbus  reached  the  New  World, 
he  landed  on  a  beautiful  green  island.  He 
tells  us  that  the  island  was  covered  with 
trees  like  an  orchard.  The  trees  and  the 
flowers  and  the  fruits  were  different  from  any 
that  he  had  ever  seen  before. 


83 

All  day  he  remained  on  shore  with  his 
men.  Tliev  were  deliiihted  with  tlie  warm 
air,  the  clear  streams,  the  bright  flowers,  and 
the  fresh  fruit. 

The  natives  were  friendly  and  gentle. 
They  wore  no  clothes,  but  their  bodies  were 
painted  with  many  colors.  They  came  near 
the  strangers  and  seemed  to  wonder  at  their 
white  faces. 

Some  of  the  natiyes  wore  rings  of  gold  in 
their  noses  and  ears.  Columbus  tried  to 
learn  from  them  where  they  had  found  the 
gold.  They  pointed  to  the  south  and  said 
"Cuba."  By  siorns  they  led  him  to  belieye 
that  Cuba  was  a  land  where  there  was  much 
gold. 

Columbus  was  in  haste  to  reach  the  mines 
of  gold  and  the  rich  cities  about  Ayliich  he 
luid  read.  The  next  day  he  sailed  with  all 
his  ships  and  sailors  toward  the  south. 

They  passed  by  many  green  islands  as  beau- 
tiful as  the  one  on  which  they  had  landed. 
Columl)us  sat  on  deck,  watching  the  shore. 
He   hoped    and  he  belieyed  that  he   should 


84 

soon   see   the   towers   of   a   city  rise    toward 
the  sky. 

The  news  of  the  visit  of  the  white  men 
spread  from  island  to  island.  The  natives 
ran  to  the  shore  to  see  the  wonderful  ships 
with  sails  like  white  wings.  They  paddled 
out  to  the  ships  in  their  canoes,  and  they 
brought  fruit  and  balls  of  cotton  yarn. 

Columbus  and  his  men  were  looking  every- 
where for  gold.  Whenever  they  saw  a  village 
of  huts  they  visited  the  chief  and  asked  him 
where  gold  could  be  found.  They  traded  bells 
and  beads  for  the  gold  ornaments  which  the 
natives  wore. 

Soon  Columbus  reached  the  shores  of  Cuba. 
Everywhere  he  saw  beautiful  flowers  and 
fruits.  He  found  gentle  natives  living  in 
poor  huts.  But  he  saw  no  cities  and  he 
found  no  mines  of  gold. 

Columbus  supposed  that  he  had  reached 
some  small  islands  on  the  coast  of  India. 
For  this  reason  he  called  the  dark-skinned 
people  living  there  Indians.  He  did  not 
know  that  he  had  found  the  New  World. 


85 


COLUMBUS    RETURNS   TO   SPAIN 


Jainiaiy 

obliged 

several 

court 

Isabella 

decided 

fifteenth 

delay 

Ferdinand 

wrecked 

discovered 

search 

Santa  Maria 

farewell 

seaport 

voyage 

At  last  Columbus  gave  up  the  search  for 
gold,  and  decided  to  return  to  Spain.  He 
wished  to  tell  King  Ferdinand  and  Queen 
Isabella  of  the  islands  he  had  visited. 

He  was  sure  that  he  had  discovered  a  new 
way  to  India,  and  he  wished  to  ask  the  king 
for  more  ships  and  more  men.  He  believed 
that  great  riches  could  be  found  on  these 
islands  which  he  had  visited. 

Early  in  January  he  gave  a  farewell  feast 
to  the  natives.  Then  he  sailed  for  Spain, 
taking  with  him  six  Indians. 

His  flagshij),  the  Santa  Maria,  had  been 
wrecked.  One  of  his  captains  had  sailed 
awav  in  the  Pinta  and  had  not  retui'ned. 
And  so  Columbus  was  obliged  to  cross  the 
ocean  in  the  Nina,  which  was  the  smallest  of 
his  three  ships. 


86 

The  voyage  was  long  and  the  storms  were 
many.  The  little  ship  was  tossed  about  by 
the  waves  and  was  often  in  great  danger. 
But  at  last  the  shores  of  Spain  were  seen  by 
the  sailors,  and  great  was  their  joy. 

At  noon,  on  the  fifteenth  of  Marcli,  1^93, 
thev  sailed  into  the  harbor  which  thev  had 
left  more  than  seven  months  before.  All 
the  people  in  the  town  crowded  to  the  shore. 
For  a  long  time  they  had  thought  tliat  Colum- 
bus was  lost  at  sea,  and  that  thev  would  never 
see  him  and  his  sailors  again. 

The  first  act  of  Columbus  was  to  lead  his 
men  to  the  church,  where  they  gave  thanks 
to  God  for  their  safe  return. 

Very  soon  the  good  news  spread  over  all 
Spain.  Bells  were  rung,  and  great  fires  were 
lighted  on  the  hilltops. 

King  Ferdinand  and  Queen  Isabella  were 
several  hundred  miles  from  the  seaport  town 
where  Columbus  landed  with  his  sailors.  As 
soon  as  the  king  and  queen  heard  of  his  safe 
return,  they  sent  Columl)us  a  letter  asking 
him  to  come  without  delav  to  their  court. 


87 


COLUMBUS   AT   THE   COURT   OF   SPAIN 


third 

tlirons:ed 

knelt 

banners 

praise 

vingdom 

joinec. 

listened 

bearing  honor 

received  turtle 

officers  parrots 

awaiting  account 

The  time  of  year  was  deliiihtful  for  the 
long  journey  through  Spain.  Every  mile  of 
the  way  Columbus  and  his  men  received  a 
welcome.  As  they  passed  along  the  i)lains 
and  over  the  mountains,  men,  women,  and 
children  came  to  see  the  brave  sailors  who 
had  dared  to  cross  the  ocean. 

AVlien  they  reached  the  end  of  their  jour- 
nev,  thev  were  met  bv  officers  of  the  kins:. 
Then  all  marched  into  the  city  through 
crowded  streets  Avhere  banners  were  flying. 

First  came  Columbus  ridins>  a  tine  horse. 
Next  Avalked  six  Indians,  painted  and  wear- 
ing feathers  in  their  hair. 

The  sailors  followed,  carrvino;  stranae  birds 
and  animals  from  across  the  sea.  Some  had 
live  parrots  which  they  had  caught  and  tamed. 


88 

One  man  carried  a  turtle  shell  almost  as 
large  as  himself.  Others  showed  with  great 
pride  the  curious  rings  and  crowns  of  gold 
which  they  had  brought  from  the  islands. 

The  king  and  queen  sat  on  their  throne 
awaiting  Columbus.  When  he  came  near, 
they  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they  asked  him 
to  take  a  seat  by  their  side. 

In  the  great  room  were  the  lords  and  ladies 
of  the  court  and  the  chief  men  of  the  king- 
dom. Every  one  looked  with  wonder  at  the 
painted  Indians  and  at  the  strange  gifts  which 
were  carried  by  the  sailors. 

Columbus  then  gave  an  account  of  his 
wonderful  voyage.  When  his  story  was  done, 
the  king  and  queen  knelt  in  thanks  to 
God.  Then  the  great  crowd  of  people  joined 
them  in  thanksgiving  and  in  a  grand  song 
of  praise. 

So  great  was  the  honor  paid  to  Columbus 
that  he  rode  with  the  king  and  his  son 
through  the  streets  of  the  city.  The  people 
thronged  to  see  him,  and  they  called  him  the 
third  king. 


I  'Ik «-'  ^ 


o 
o 

r 

C 

c 
(/) 

DO 

m 
■n 
o 

70 

m 

I 

m 

z 

o 


-o 
c 
m 
ro 
z 


90 


THE    FIRST   THANKSGIVING 


rejoice         Thursday  invited  quail 

rushes         lowlands  dainties        guests 

arrived        cranberries        already         whoops 

Almost  a  year  had  passed  since  the  first 
company  of  Pilgrims  had  come  to  America. 
About  fifty  of  those  who  had  crossed  the 
ocean  in  the  Mayflower  were  now  living  in 
their  new  home. 

They  had  laid  out  a  village  street  and  had 
built  a  few  houses  in  the  place  which  they 
called  Plymouth.  Their  houses  were  made 
of  logs.  The  roofs  were  very  steep  and  were 
covered  with  grass  and  rushes. 

It  had  been  a  busy  summer  for  the  Pil- 
grims. They  had  worked  hard  in  the  gardens 
and  tlie  fields.  But  the  harvests  were  good 
and  there  would  be  food  enough  for  the  com- 
ing winter.     How  thankful  they  were  ! 

"  Let  us  set  aside  a  day  in  which  to  give 
thanks    for   this   great   harvest,"    they    said. 


91 


"It  is  God  who  lias  sent  the  sunshine  and 
the  rain  to  make  the  seeds  grow.  AVe  will 
have  a  day  of  thanksgiving,  and  ask  the 
friendly  Indians  to   come    and   rejoice    with 


us." 


So  the  Indian  chief  and  his  band  were 
invited  to  the  feast.  Such  a  busv  time  as 
that  was  for  the  Pilgrims !  The  men  went 
to  the  forest  to  hunt  deer,  wild  turkeys, 
and  other  game.  All  the  women  were  at 
work,  and  the  smoke  of  the  ovens  rose  from 
the  chimneys. 

Even  the  children  helped.  Some  of  them 
gathered  the  cranberries  that  were  turning 
red  in  the  lowlands.  Some  picked  the  wild 
grapes  that  were  growing  purple  on  the  vines. 
Others  broudit  home  the  nuts  which  were 
falling  from  the  trees.  The  older  boys  were 
sent  to  the  beach  for  clams. 

The  Indians  w^ere  invited  to  come  on 
Thursday.  At  sunrise  on  that  day  the 
Pilgrims  were  awakened  by  whooi)s  and 
yells  wliich  told  them  that  their  guests  had 
already  arrived. 


92 


II. 


game 

•east 

November 

stew 

roasts 

poured 

turkeys 

veil 

stuffed 

sermon 

pop  corn 

haze 

It  was  in  the  month  of  November,  but  the 
w^eather  w^as  mild  and  lovely,  and  a  soft  blue 
haze  seemed  to  veil  the  woods. 

Late  wild  flowers  were  blooming.  Bright 
leaves  were  falling  from  the  trees.  It  was  the 
time  of  year  that  w^e  call  Indian  summer. 

A  great  fire  w^as  built  out  of  doors  for  the 
cooking,  and  long  tables  were  spread  in  the 
open  air.  When  the  loud  roll  of  the  drum 
was  heard,  all  the  people  went  to  the  log 
fort  on  the  hill  w^hich  was  used  as  a  meeting 
house.  There  they  gave  thanks  to  God  for 
the  rich  harvest  of  the  year. 

Everybody,  young  and  old,  w^as  there.  The 
little  children  must  have  grown  very  tired 
of  the  long  sermon.  They  must  have  w^anted 
to  go  home  to  the  good  dinner  which  they 
kneAv  was  w^aiting  for  them. 

At  last  the  Thanksgiving  feast  was  ready. 


98 


In  the  middle  of  the  long  table  stood  a 
huge  bowl  of  stew  made  of  different  kinds 
of  game. 


There  were  great  roasts  of  deer  and  roasted 
turkeys  stuffed  with  nuts.  There  were  the 
cakes  and  puddings  made  by  the  Pilgrim 
mothers.  And  it  is  said  that  the  Indians 
brought  a  large  basket  of  pop  corn  which  they 
poured  on  the  table  just  as  the  meal  began. 

In  this  way  the  Pilgrims  passed  their  first 
Thanksgiving  Day  in  America. 

—  Marian  M.  Georgk- 


94 


THANKSGIVING   DAY 

Over  the  river  and  through  the  wood, 
To  grandfather's  house  we  go; 

The  horse  knows  the  way 

To  carry  the  sleigh 
Through  the  white  and  drifted  snow. 

Over  the  river  and  through  the  wood, 
Oh,  how  the  wind  does  l)k)w  1 
It  stings  the  toes 
And  bites  the  nose, 
As  over  the  ground  we  go. 

Over  the  river  and  through  tlie  wood, 
To  have  a  first-rate  play ; 

Here  the  bells  ring, 

"  Ting-a-ling-ding !  " 
Hurrah  for  Thanksgiving  Day! 

Over  the  river  and  through  the  wood, 
Trot  fast,  my  dapple-gray! 

Spring  over  the  ground, 

Like  a  hunting  hound ! 
For  this  is  Thanksgiving  Day. 


95 

Over  the  river  and  through  the  wood, 
And  straight  through  the  barnyard  gate. 
We  seem  to  go 
Extremely  slow, 
It  is  so  hard  to  wait ! 


Over  the  river  and  through  the  wood, 
Now  grandmother's  cap  I.  spy ! 
Hurrah  for  the  fun ! 
Is  the  pudding  done? 
Hurrah  for  the  pum]dvin  pie ! 

—  Lydia  Maria  Child. 


96 


THE   SNOW   BABY 


freeze 
noisy 


shaggy 
icebergs 


Eskimos 
enormous 


cliffs 
hoofs 


Hundreds  and  hundreds 
of  miles  away  in  the  white 
frozen  north,  there  is  a  won- 
derful land  of  snow  and 
ice.  There  strange  little  yellow 
people,  called  Eskimos,  live  in  --       ' 

snow  houses,  and  dress  in  the  skins  of  animals. 

In  summer,  in  this  wonderful  land,  the  sun 
never  sets,  but  shines  all  the  time,  day  and 
night.  Flowers  spring  up,  and  soft-eyed  rein- 
deer wander  about  cropping  the  short  grass. 


97 

The  ice  breaks  up  and  drifts  out  to  sea. 
Great  rivers  of  ice  push  forward  into  the 
Avater.  Enormous  icebergs  break  off  from 
them  and  float  away  like  white  ships. 

The  blue  waves  dance  and  sparkle  in  the 
sun.  Singing  brooks  rush  down  the  moun- 
tains. Thousands  of  noisy  sea  birds  come 
to  the  rocky  cliffs  to  lay  their  eggs. 

Glossy  seals  swim  in  the  water,  and  once 
in  a  while  a  shaggy  white  bear  goes  running 
over  the  floating  ice  in  search  of  seals. 

The  Eskimos,  iDaddling  swiftly  through  the 
water  in  their  strange  skin  boats,  hunt  these 
animals  for  food  and  clothing. 

In  Avinter  there  is  no  sunshine  at  all  in 
Eskimo  land.  For  four  long,  long  months 
it  is  dark  all  the  time,  just  as  it  ii^  here  in 
the  night.  The  ground  is  covered  deep  with 
snow,  and  the  poor  deer  must  dig  through 
it  with  their  hoofs  for  siirass  and  moss. 

The  sea  is  covered  thick  with  ice,  and  the 
birds  fly  away.  The  cold  is  so  terrible  that 
the  Eskimos  would  freeze  to  death  were  it 
not  for  their  thick,  warm  fur  coats. 


98 


II. 


hooded         blankets         veranda  bushy 

coffee  sealskin  September         sugar 

Here   in   this    wonderful    land    there    was 
found,  one  September  day,  a  snow-white  baby 

with    big    blue 
eves. 

< 

And  such  a 
funny  little  house 
it  was  where  she 
was  found.  It  was 
only  one  story 
high.  The  walls 
were  more  than  a 
foot  thick,  and  the 
outside  was  cov- 
ered with  heavy 
black  paper.  All 
around  the  house 

was  a  veranda.     Its  walls  were  built  of  boxes 

of  biscuit,  sugar,  cotiee,  and  tea. 

Inside   the   house,    the   little    room   where 

the   baby  lived  was    lined   with    soft  warm 


99 

blankets.  There  was  a  bright  carpet  on  the 
floor  and  pictures  on  the  walls. 

All  these  things,  like  the  boxes  of  food  out- 
side, came  in  the  ship  which  brought  the  baby's 
father  and  mother  to  this  strange  country. 

One  window  of  the  baby's  room  looked  out 
upon  a  great  riyer  of  ice.  From  the  other 
window  you  could  see  high  red  and  brown 
mountains.  And  here  Ayas  the  sea  in  which 
strange-looking  icebergs  floated. 


in. 


August  mittens  trousers  sleigh 

steamed         northern         language         sledge 


When  the  people  of  that  land  heard  that 
there  was  a  white  baby  in  the  small  black 
house,  they  came  hundreds  of  miles  to  see 
the  little  stranger. 

They  talked  to  the  baby  in  their  own  queer 
lano;uao:e.  They  called  her  the  Snow  Baby, 
and  they  broudit  her  presents  of  fur  mittens 
and  little  sealskin  boots. 

After  the  sun  went  away  the  baby  liyed 


100 

for  days  and  weeks  in  a  little  room  lined  with 
blankets.  A  lamp  w^as  kept  burning  in  the 
room  all  the  time,  both  day  and  night. 

One  of  the  Eskimo  women  made  a  little  suit 
of  clothes  for  the  baby,  all  out  of  furs.  There 
were  only  two  pieces  in  this  suit.  First  there 
was  a  pair  of  little  trousers  and  boots  made 
together.     Over  this  a  hooded  coat  was  worn. 

When  the  sun  returned,  the  Snow  Baby  was 
taken  out  of  doors  every  day.  No  matter 
how  cold  it  was  she  had  a  sleigh  ride  on  her 
little  Eskimo  sledge.  You  should  have  seen 
her  team  of  dogs  with  their  bright  eyes,  their 
sharp-pointed  ears,  and  their  big  bushy  tails. 

For  nearly  a  year  the  Snow  Baby  lived  in 
this  strange,  northern  home.  But  one  day  in 
August  a  big  black  ship  came  up  the  bay. 
It  was  the  same  ship  that  had  brought  the 
Snow  Baby's  father  and  mother  to  the  Snow- 
land. 

-  Then  the  baby  and  her  mother  went  on 
board  the  ship  and  steamed  away  south  to 
their  own  American  home. 

From  "  The  Snow  Bahy." 
Copyright,  1901,  by  Frederick-  A.  Stokes  Company. 


101 


-H  5    >    5       -> 


A   SNOW   HOUSE 


knees 

puppy 

harness 

dries 

force 

needle 

clothing 

twists 

thaws 

dimly 

platform 

whales 

In  the   summer  time  the    Eskimo   people 
live  in  tents  made  of  skins.     In  the  winter 


thev  build  their  houses  out  of  hard  blocks  of 
ice  and  snow. 

Perhaps  you  would  like  to  visit  an  Eskimo 
family,  and  see  how  these  yellow  people  live 
in  a  snow  house.  But  liow  shall  we  get  into 
the  house?  There  seems  to  be  no  door  in 
this  strange-looking  mound  of  snow, 


102 

We  must  boAV  our  heads  aud  crawl  ou  our 
hands  and  knees  through  a  dark  passage. 
Soon  we  come  to  an  open  space  wiiere  we 
stand  upright  in  a  dimly  lighted  room. 

All  around  the  room  is  a  bank  of  snow 
next  to  the  wall  of  the  house.  The  top  of 
this  bank  is  broad  and  level  like  a  table.  It 
is  covered  with  the  thick  skins  of  reindeer, 
bear,  and  foxes.  Here  the  family  eat  and 
sleep,  and  here  the  chihh'en  play. 

Near  the  doorwav  stands  the  stove,  on  a 
raised  platform.  You  would  think  it  a  very 
poor  stove,  for  it  is  only  a  hollow  stone  filled 
with  oil  and  moss.  When  the  moss  is  lighted, 
it  burns  like  the  wick  of  a  lamp. 

This  stove  warms  the  room,  melts  the 
water  for  drinking,  dries  wet  clothing,  and 
til  aw  s  the  frozen  meat.  It  lights  the  room 
dimly  and  we  see  the  Eskimo  father,  mother, 
and  children  in  their  snow  house. 

A  bag  is  lying  on  the  thick  furs.  Xow  it 
moves  and  the  mother  takes  it  in  her  arms. 
See,  it  is  a  baby  boy  in  a  bag  of  feathers. 

When   an   Eskimo  baby  is  in  the  house, 


103 


he  lies  in  his  feather  bag.  And  when  he  is 
out  of  doors,  he  is  always  on  his  mother's 
back,  inside  of  her  fur  liood. 

As  soon  as  an  Eskimo  boy  is  old  enough  to 
walk,  he  has  a  ]nippy  for  a  playmate.  He 
learns   to  harness   his  dog  and  drive  it   all 


around  the  room.  Soon  he  will  be  able  to 
drive  a  team  of  dogs,  as  his  father  does,  and 
ride  swiftly  over  the  snow. 

The  laroe  bovs  catch  fish  and  hunt  seal. 
Tliey  even  help  to  kill  great  whales  and  tierce 
white  bears. 

But  what  does  the  little  Eskimo  girl  do? 
The  little  sister  learns  to  sew  and  to  make 
clothes  out  of  skins.  She  makes  her  own 
needle  from  a  hard  bone  or  a  piece  of  iron, 
and  she  twists  thread  from  strips  of  deerskin. 


104 

Everything  the  Eskimos  use  they  make  with 
their  own  hands. 

Sometimes  our  ships  force  their  way  through 
the  frozen  ocean  to  their  land  of  ice  and 
snow.  The  Eskimo  people  think  these  great 
ships  the  most  wonderful  things  they  have 
ever  seen. 


THE   NORTHERN   SEAS 

Up  !    up  !    let  us  a  voyage  take ; 

Why  sit  we  here  at  ease? 
Find  us  a  vessel  tight  and  snug, 

Bound  for  the  northern  seas. 

I  long  to  see  the  Northern  Lights, 
With  their  rushing  splendors,  Hy, 

Like  living  things,  with  flaming  wings, 
Wide  o'er  the  wondrous  sky. 

I  long  to  see  those  icebergs  vast. 
With  heads  all  crowned  with  snow, 

Whose  green  roots  sleep  in  the  awful  deep, 
Two  hundred  fathoms  low. 


105 

I  long  to  hear  the  thundering  crash 

Of  their  terrific  fall; 
And  the  echoes  from  a  thousand  clilfs, 

Like  lonely  voices  call. 

There  we  shall  see  the  fierce  white  bear, 

The  sleepy  s6als  aground, 
And  the  spouting  whales  that  to  and  fro 

Sail  with  a  dreary  sound. 

We'll  pass  the  shores  of  solemn  pine, 
Where  wolves  and  black  bears  prowl, 

And  away  to  the  rocky  isles  of  mist 
To  rouse  the  northern  fowl. 

And  there,  in  the  wastes  of  the  silent  sky, 

With  the  silent  earth  below. 
We  shall  see  far  off  to  his  lonely  rock 

The  lonely  eagle  go. 

Then  softly,  softly  we  will  tread 

Bv  island  streams,  to  see 
Where  the  pelican  of  the  silent  North 

Sits  there  all  silently. 

—  William  Howitt. 


1U6 


DECEMBER 


And  now  December's  snows  are  here, 
The  light  flakes  flutter  down, 

And  hoarfrost  glitters,  white  and  fair, 
Upon  the  branches  brown. 

—  Selected. 
JANUARY 

Wintry  day  !  frosty  day ! 

God  a  cloak  on  all  doth  lay ; 

On  the  earth  the  snow  he  sheddeth, 

O'er  the  lamb  a  fleece  he  spreadeth, 

Gives  the  bird  a  coat  of  feather 

To  protect  it  from  the  weather. 

—  Selected. 

FEBRUARY 

In  the  snowing  and  the  blowing, 
In  the  cold  and  cruel  sleet, 

Little  flowers  begin  their  growing, 
Underneath  your  feet. 

—  Mary  Mapes  Dodge. 


lOY 


CHRISTMAS   EVERYWHERE 

Everywhere,  everywhere,  Christmas  to-night! 
Christmas  in  lands  of  the  tir-tree  and  pine. 
Christmas  in  lands  of  the  palm-tree  and  vine. 
Christmas    where  snow  peaks  stand   solemn 

and  white. 
Christmas   where    corntields    lie    sunny   and 

bright ! 

Christmas   where   children   are   hopeful   and 

gay, 

Christmas  where   old    men    are   patient   and 

gray, 
Christmas  where   peace,  like  a  dove   in   his 

iiiglit, 
Broods  o'er  brave  men   in  tlie  thick  of   the 

figlit. 
Everywhere,  everywhere,  Christmas  to-night. 

For  the  Christ-Child  who  comes  is  the  Master 

of  all ; 
No  palace  too  great  and  no  cottage  too  small. 

—  Phillips  Brooks. 


108 


THE   CHRISTMAS   SONG 

And  suddenly  there  was  with  the  angel 
a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host  praising 
God,  and  saying:  "Glory  to  God  in  the 
highest,    and    on   earth   peace,    good  will   to 


man.'' 


—  St.  Luke. 


The  shepherds  were  watching  their  flocks 

On  a  beautiful  starlit  night. 
When  the  sky  was  suddenly  filled 

With  a  band  of  angels  bright. 

Oh  !  shepherds  fear  not  but  rejoice, 
For  we  bring  good  news,  they  sing ; 

In  Bethlehem  is  born  this  day, 

A  saviour  who  is  Christ  your  King ! 

A  glad  and  wonderful  song 

Rang  through  the  heavens  then ; 

It  was  ''  Gloi"y  to  God  on  high. 

Peace  on  earth,  good  will  toward  men." 


THE   CHRISTMAS   SONG. 


iioy; 


110 


THE   NEW  YEAR 


The  New  Year  comes  in  the  midnight  hour 
When  the  beautiful  world  is  still, 
And  the  moonlight  falls  in  a  silver  stream 
Over  meadow  and  wood  and  hill. 

We  can  not  hear  the  tread  of  his  feet, 
For  so  silently  comes  he ; 
But  the  ringing  bells  the  good  news  tell 
As  they  sound  over  land  and  sea. 

Where'er  he  steps  new  joys  upspring, 
And  hopes,  that  were  lost  or  dim. 
Grow  sw^eet  and  strong  in  the  golden  hours, 
Tliat  he  everywhere  bears  with  him. 

He  brings  us  snow  from  the  fleecy  clouds ; 
He  sends  us  the  springtime  showers ; 
He  gladdens  our  world  with  the  light  of  love 
And  fills  its  lap  with  flowers. 

Some  day,  as  softly  as  he  came, 
He  will  pass  through  the  open  door, 
And  we  who  sing  at  his  coming  now 
Will  never  see  him  more. 

—  Marie  Zetterberg. 


Ill 


HOW    PLANTS   GROW 


trunk  halves  dissolves  juice 

swells  course  openings  blood 

Cut  an  apple  into  halves  and  take  out 
one  of  the  little  brown  seeds.  How  small 
it  is !  Now  h)()k  at  an  apple  tree.  Did 
the  apple  tree  come 
out  of  a  little  brown 
seed  like  the  one  vou 
hold  in  vour  hand? 

You  sav  that  it  did.  Look  again.  Which 
is  larger,  the  seed  or  the  apple  tree?  And 
now  you  laugh,  as  you  say:  "Of  course  an 
apple  tree  is  larger  than  an  apple  seed." 
Then  there  must  be  something  in  the  apple 
tree  that  was  not  in  the  seed. 

The  tree  has  a  trunk  or  stem.  It  has 
leaves  and  it  has  roots.  How  were  all 
these  made? 

Do  you  say  that  the  apple  tree  grew?  But 
what  do  you  mean  by  growing?  Something 
must  have  come  into  the  apple  seed  to  make 


112 

it  grow  into  a  plant.  And  something  must 
have  come  into  the  little  green  apple  plant 
to  make  it  grow  into  a  tree. 

What  was  it  ?  Where  did  the  plant  get  it  ? 
Cut  into  a  green  stem  of  the  apple  tree. 
See  how  the  juice  runs  out! 

The  apple  tree  was  made  from  this  juice 
which  we  call  sap.  This  sap  is  the  blood 
of  the  plant.  It  makes  the  plant  grow  just 
as  your  blood  makes  you  grow. 

The  sap  came  to  the  little  apple  plant  all 
the  time  it  was  growing.  But  where  did  the 
plant  get  the  sap  ? 

The  food  of  a  plant  lies  all  about  its  roots. 
The  rain,  or  water  from  your  watering  pot, 
falls  around  the  plant.  It  sinks  into  the 
ground.  Then  the  water  dissolves  the  earth 
just  as  it  dissolves  sugar. 

The  seed  swells,  and  the  brown  seed  coat 
bursts.  Then  a  little  root  runs  down  into 
the  earth.  This  root  has  hundreds  of  open- 
ings or  mouths.  The  little  openings  are  so 
small  that  our  eyes  can  not  see  them. 

The   roots    suck   in   the   water    from    the 


113 


ground.  The  earth  that  is  dissolved  in  the 
water  creeps  up  into  the  plant.  This  juice 
or  sap  makes  the  plant  grow. 

But  the  plant  must  have  air  as  well  as 
food.  The  sap  can  not  turn  into  wood  and 
bark  and  fruit  until  it  has  met  the  air.  So 
the  sap  flows  up  into  the  leaves  and  meets 
the  air. 

Then  it  finds  its  way  into  every  part  of  the 
plant.  It  changes  into  the  rough  bark  and 
hard  wood  of  the  apple  tree.  It 
changes  into  pink  apple  bios 
soms  and  buds.  It 
changes  into  red 
apples  and  yellow 
apples.  The  same 
sap  makes  sweet  apples  ^.^  ^ 
and  sour  apples.  Every  '^■^.^^^  \, 
part  of  a  plant  is  made  from 
sap.    Is  not  that  very  strange  ?     ^pp^^  Blossoms. 

We  have  learned  that  the  roots  take  the 
food  of  plants  from  the  earth.  They  do  more 
than  this.  The  roots  are  the  feet  of  the 
plant. 


fi'^^- 


-3r 


114 

You  could  not  stand  without  your  feet. 
You  would  fall  on  the  ground  or  the  floor. 
And  80  the  tree  or  the  plant  could  not  stand 
without  its  roots. 

Other  plants  grow  just  as  the  apple  tree 
grows.  The  roots  of  a  i)lant  get  food  from 
the  earth  and  keep  the  plant  in  its  place  in 
the  ground.  The  stein  makes  the  plant 
strong  and  holds  it  up  in  the  air.  And  the 
leaves  draAV  in  just  what  the  plants  need 
from  the  air  around  them. 


Fruit  of  the  Apple  Tree. 


116 


TALKING   IN   THEIR   SLEEP 

"  You  think  I  am  dead," 

The  apple  tree  said, 
"  Because  I  have  never  a  leaf  to  show  — 

Because  I  stoop 

And  my  branches  droop, 
And  the  dull  gray  mosses  over  me  grow. 
But  I'm  still  alive  in  trunk  and  shoot; 

The  buds  of  next  Mav 

I  fold  awav  — 
But  I  pity  the  withered  grass  at  my  foot." 

''  You  think  I  am  dead," 

The  quick  grass  said, 
"  Because  I  have  parted  with  stem  and  bladeo 

But  under  the  ground 

I  am  safe  and  sound 
With  the  snow's  thick  blanket  over  me  laid. 
Tm  all  alive  and  readv  to  shoot. 

Should  the  spring  of  the  year 

Come  dancing  here  — 
But  I  pity  the  flowers  without  branch  or  root." 


116 

"  You  think  I  am  dead," 

A  soft  voice  said, 
"  Because  not  a  branch  or  root  I  own ! 

I  never  have  died 

But  close  I  hide, 
In  a  plumy  seed  that  the  wind  has  sown. 
Patient  I  wait  through  the  long  winter  hours ; 

You  will  see  me  again  — 

I  shall  laugh  at  you  then, 
Out  of  the  eyes  of  a  hundred  flowers." 

—  Edith  M.  Thomas. 
A   RIDDLE 

I  HAVE  only  one  foot,  but  thousands  of  toes ; 
My  one  foot  stands,  but  never  goes ; 
I  have  many  arms  and  they're  mighty  all ; 
And  hundreds  of  fingers,  large  and  small. 
None  e'er  saw  me  eat  —  I've  no  mouth   to 

bite ; 
Yet  I  feed  all  day  in  the  full  sunlight ; 
In  the  summer  with  song  I  shake  and  quiver, 
But  in  winter  I  fast  and  groan  and  shiver. 

—  George  MacdonaIiD. 


117 


^J'S^TlsKis 


o    "    >        ;"^  ■    , 


.rife 


fe^^^ftfel^f 


i"v 


■-■  •   ■     a   >^*. 


SNOWFLAKES 

UT  of  the  sky  they  come, 
Wandering  down  the  air. 
Some  to  the  roofs,  and  some 
AVhiten  the  branches  bare ; 

Some  in  the  empty  nest, 
Some  on  the  ground  below, 

Until  the  world  is  dressed 
All  in  a  gown  of  snow ; 

Diessed  in  a  fleecy  gown 
Out     of     the     snowflakes 
spun ; 

Wearing  a  golden  crown, 
Over  her  head  the  sun. 

Out  of  the  sky  again 

Ghosts  of  the  flowers  that 
died 
Visit  the  earth,  and  then 
Under  the  white  drifts  hide. 

Frank  Dempster  Sherman. 


118 


FANNIES    MENAGERIE 


dozen  trickled  creatures         dive 

pounced        mustn't  shoulders         buncli 

seized  shouldn't        snatching        shawl 

''What  a  long,  long  day!"   said   Fannie. 
"  Rain,  rain  all  the  time,  and  nothing  pleasant 

to  do.    I  wish  mother 


Wi^ 


le 


% 


would  let  me  go  out 
of  doors  and  play  in 
the  water. 

"  The  ducks  seem 
to  be  having  a  line 
time  on  the  pond. 
They  like  the  rain. 
It'  I  only  had  a  coat  of  feathers,  I  shouldn't 
mind  a  little  wetting.  I  could  dive  and 
splash  about  all  day  long.  But  now  I  sup- 
pose I  must  go  to  sleep,  for  there  seems  to  be 
nothing  else  for  me  to  do." 

So  Fannie  threw  herself  on  her  bed.     She 
lay  with  her  eyes  half  open,  watching  the 


119 

raindrops  as  they  trickled  down  the  window 
panes. 

FLap,  flap,  flap!  "What  is  that  at  the 
window?  "  Flap,  flap,  flap  !  In  flew  a  dozen 
geese.  "  Quack,  quack  !  quack  !  Who  car- 
ried off  our  feathers?"  they  were  sci-eaming. 
They  flew  around  tlie  room,  beatina;  their 
wings  against  the  walls  and  ceiling'. 

Fhq),  flap,  flap !  Ayent  the  flock  of  geese 
oyer  Fannie' s  head,  and  down  they  pounced 
ui)on  the  pillow.  In  a  few  minutes  it  was 
torn  to  i)ieces,  and  the  feathers  scattered  all 
oyer  the  floor. 

'•Quack,  quack,  quack!  Here  are  our 
feathers  !  "  cried  all  the  geese  ;  and  each  one 
seized  a  bunch  of  feathers  in  its  bill.  Then 
they  flew  ofl',  leaying  the  air  full  of  soft, 
white  down. 

Patter,  patter,  patter!  The  door  was 
gently  ]mshed  oi)en,  and  there  stood  a  sheep. 
"Please  walk  in,  madam."  said  Fannie;  and 
in  came  a  whole  flock  of  sheep. 

"  Baa,  baa,  baa !  Where  is  the  wool  they 
cut  from  my  back?,';  said  a  great,  black  sheep.' 


120 

"Baa,  baa,  baa!  Who  has  carried  off  our 
wool  ?  "  cried  all  the  other  sheep. 

"  I  didn't  carry  off  your  wool,"  said  Fannie. 
"  Stop,  stop  !  that's  my  shawl.  You  mustn't 
take  that.  What  are  you  pulling  the  carpet 
to  pieces  for?  " 

Without  minding  a  word  Fannie  said,  the 
great,  black  sheep  marched  out  of  the  room 
with  the  shawl  on  its  shoulders.  All  the 
other  sheep  followed  Avith  pieces  of  carpet 
folded  over  them. 

II. 

swarm       nibbling       exclaimed         mattress 
troop  neighing       cranberries       bursting 

eaten         nonsense      disturbed  pillows 

Buzz,  buzz,  buzz !  "  What  comes  to  the 
window  now?  "     In  flew  a  swarm  of  bees. 

"Buzz,  buzz,  buzz!  Where  is  our  wax?" 
said  the  queen  bee. 

"  Hum,  hum,  hum !  Who  stole  our  wax?  " 
said  all  the  bees. 

"  There  is  no  wax  here,"  said  Fannie. 

The  bees  flew  about,  crying,  "  Buzz,  buzz. 


121 

buzz  !     Hum,  hum,  hum  !  "     They  seemed  to 
be  very  angry  about  something. 

"Oh,  dear,''  exclaimed  Fannie  ;  "  they  have 
all  lighted  on  my  doll  and  are  nibbling  away 
her  pretty  face.  Oh,  my  beautiful  wax  doll ! 
What  shall  I  do  ?     What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  great  noise  in 
the  hall.  "  I  wonder  what  will  come  next," 
said  Fannie.  In  trotted  a  troop  of  horses, 
neighing  loudly,  "Who  stole  our  flowing 
manes?  Who  carried  off  our  long,  weaving 
tails?" 

"  Here  they  are,"  said  a  great,  white  horse, 
and  he  began  pulling  the  mattress  into  pieces. 

"  I  shall  have  no  bed  to  sleep  on,"  thought 
Fannie,  as  the  horses  went  galloping  out  of 
the  room,  with  their  mouths  full  of  horsehair. 

But  what  can  be  coming  through  the  hall 
now,  making  so  much  noise? 

"Fannie!  Fannie!  Why  don't  you  come 
down  to  tea?"  shouted  Frank,  bursting  into 
the  room. 

"  Oh,  Frank,"  said  she,  "did  you  meet  the 
horses  running  downstairs?" 


122 

"  Horses  running  downstairs !  What  are 
you  talking  about,  Fannie?  " 

"  Why,  some  geese  flew  in  through  the 
window,  and  took  the  feathers  from  my  pil- 
lows. A  whole  troop  of  horses  came  into  my 
room  and  tore  the  mattress  to  pieces.  A 
Hock  of  sheep  carried  off  the  carpet,  and  a 
swarm  of  bees  has  eaten  up  my  doll's  head." 

"  Your  doll  is  lying  in  her  cradle,  with 
cheeks  as  red  as  cranberries,"  said  Frank.' 
"The  carpet  looks  as  pretty  as  ever;  and 
your  bed  has  not  been  disturbed.  Sister 
dear,  I  think  you  have  been  dreaming  a  great 
deal  of  nonsense  for  one  afternoon." 

—  From  "  Rainbows  for  Children." 

HOW  LAMBKIN  WHITE  WAS  SAVED 

I. 

frolic  trestle  railroad  marsh 

leader  minute         suddenly  barrel 

bubbled       lambkin       companions       swamp 

The  morning  sun  was  just  rising  over  the 
hills  when  Lambkin  White  opened  his  eyes 


1^3 

and  scrambled  to  his  feet.     All  around  him 
lay  the  sleeping  flock. 

One  after  another  the  sheep  and  lambs 
awoke,  and  soon  they  were  feeding  on  the 
grassy  hillside. 


After  the  morning  meal  the  lambs  began 
to  frolic.  They  raced  across  the  pasture. 
They  bounded  over  the  stones  that  lay  in 
their  way.  They  seemed  to  plan  their  plays 
as  children  do,  and  everywhere  Lambkin 
White  was  the  leader. 


124 

Suddenly,  he  left  his  companions  and  ran 
to  a  large,  flat  rock.  Upon  this  he  jumped 
and  stood  waiting.  Every  lamb  followed  him. 
What  the  new  game  was  called  in  sheep 
language  no  one  can  tell.  But  they  chased 
one  another  like  boys  in  a  game  of  tag. 

The  sun  crept  up  the  sky  and  the  air  grew 
hotter.  And  now  the  sheep  stopped  eating 
grass.  They  turned,  all  together,  into  a  path 
that  led  to  their  drinking  place. 

But  to-day  they  could  find  no  water. 
Instead  of  the  spring  which  had  bubbled  out 
from  under  the  great  rock  there  were  only 
stones  and  dry  sand. 

Down  the  hill  the  flock  slowly  wound  its 
way,  looking  for  water.  But  Lambkin  White 
did  not  walk  with  the  flock.  He  ran  here 
and  there.  He  climbed  rocks  and  hid  behind 
trees.  Indeed,  could  the  mother  sheep  have 
spoken,  she  would  have  called  him  a  very 
troublesome  lambkin. 

The  pasture  sloped  down  to  a  piece  of  low, 
wet  land.  A  wooden  bridge  or  trestle  had 
been   built   across  the  marsh  for  a   railroad 


125 

track.  Trains  of  cars  rolled  over  this  high 
bridge  nearly  every  hour  of  the  day. 

On  came  the  sheep  to  the  very  edge  of  the 
swamp.  Here  they  found  black  mud,  but 
not  a  drop  of  water  to  drink. 

Near  the  end  of  the  trestle  was  a  cask,  or 
water  barrel,  which  had  been  sunk  into  the 
ground.  Lambkin  White  ran  to  the  barrel 
and  looked  in.  There  was  some  water  in 
the  cask,  and  the  thirst v  lamb  stretched  his 
neck  farther  and  farther  down  to  get  a  drink. 
Before  his  mother  could  reach  him  he  fell, 
head  foremost,  into  the  water  barrel. 

II. 

feebly  drowning       locomotive       distress 

monster       struggles       passengers       whistle 

Poor  little  lamb  !  The  smooth  sides  of  the 
barrel  were  all  around  him  and  he  could  not 
get  out.  The  helpless  mother  was  in  great 
distress,  but  what  could  she  do?  Her  little 
one  was  drowning  before  her  eyes,  and  she 
could  not  save  him  ! 


126 

The  lamb's  wild  struggles  were  growing 
slower  and  slower.  His  limbs  now  moved 
feebly.  In  a  moment  more  the  brave  young 
heart  would  stop  beating.  Soon  there  would 
be  one  less  in  the  flock.  Soon  there  would 
be  a  sad  mother  sheep  calling  in  vain  for 
her  little  lamb. 

Just  then  a  shrill  whistle  sounded  across 
the  marsh.  Over  the  trestle  came  the  great 
locomotive  dragging  a  train  of  cars  filled  with 
passengers. 

The  foolish  sheep,  in  their  terror,  ran  along 
the  railroad  track  in  front  of  the  moving 
train. 

But  Lambkin  White's  mother  still  stood 
by  the  water  cask.  Nearer  and  nearer  came 
the  terrible  noise  of  the  engine.  The  black 
monster  was  coming  directly  toward  her. 
Soon  it  will  be  u])on  her ! 

Will  she  not  run  away  from  danger  ?  Will 
she  not  join  the  flock  ?  No !  for  the  mother 
heart  is  brave  and  the  mother  love  is  strong. 
If  she  can  not  save  her  darling,  she  can,  at 
least,  die  by  his  side. 


127 


III. 

track  fireman  brakeman        drowned 

brakes        sunken  engineer  darling 

lleece  pumped        conductor         dripping 

The  engineer  was  watching  with  sharp 
eyes  the  flock  of  sheej)  on  the  track  ahead. 
He  saw  the  lamb  in  the  water  barrel  as  the 
engine  came  near  the  end  of  the  trestle. 
"  Down  brakes !  "  he  whistled,  and  the  train 
suddenly  stopped. 

The  passengers  crowded  to  the  windows. 
What  coukl  be  the  matter?  They  saw  the 
engineer  running.  They  saw  him  stoop  down 
and  lift  a  little  lamb  from  the  sunken  water 
barrel.     Its  fleece  was  dripping  with   water. 

The  engineer  placed  the  half-drowned  crea- 
ture by  its  mother's  side.  And  then  what 
a  cheer  arose  from  the  passengers  for  the 
kind  deed  which  he  had  done. 

The  fireman  drove  the  sheep  from  the  track 
and  turned  tliem  toward  the  hillside  pasture. 
A  l)rakeman  pumped  the  water  barrel  full  of 
water  for  the  thirsty  flock. 


128 

Back  ran  the  engineer  to  his  engine.  "  All 
aboard,"  shouted  the  conductor,  as  he  swung 
himself  upon  the  last  car  of  the  rolling 
train. 

Late  that  afternoon  a  happy  mother  sheep 
wandered  back  to  the  pasture  with  Lambkin 
White  following  very  slowly  in  her  tracks. 


He  prayeth  well,  who  loveth  well 
Both  man,  and  bird,  and  beast. 
He  prayeth  best,  who  loveth  best 
All  things  both  great  and  small ; 
For  the  dear  God  who  loveth  us, 
He  made  and  loveth  all. 

—  Samuel  T.  Coleridge. 


"^^'"'fW^^^^^ 


ft, ,-. . ,v- .*.4i^ 


129 


THE   LAMB 


Little  lamb,  who  made  tliee? 
Dost  thou  know  wiio  made  thee  — 
Gave  thee  life,  and  bade  thee  feed 
By  th'e  stream  and  o'er  the  mead ; 
Gave  thee  clothing  of  delight. 
Softest  clothing,  w^oolly,  bright ; 
Gave  thee  such  a  tender  voice, 
Making  all  the  vales  rejoice? 
Little  lamb,  who  made  thee? 
Dost  thou  know  who  made  thee? 

Little  lamb,  I'll  tell  thee ; 
Little  lamb,  I'll  tell  thee ; 
He  is  called  by  thy  name. 
For  he  calls  Himself  a  Lamb. 
He  is  meek,  and  He  is  mild ; 
He  became  a  little  child. 
I  a  child,  and  thou  a  lamb, 
We  are  called  by  His  name. 
Little  lamb,  God  bless  thee ! 
Little  lamb,  God  bless  thee ! 

—  William  Blake. 

9 — 3r 


130 


THE   NECKLACE    OF   TRUTH 
I. 

Merlin  fault  necklace  clasp 

liabit  wizard  untruths  shame 

There  was  once  a  little  girl  named  Pearl, 
Avho  had  a  bad  habit  of  telling  untruths. 
For  a  long  time  her  father  and  mother  did 
not  know  this.  But  at  last  they  found  that 
she  very  often  said  things  that  were  not 
true. 

Now,  at  this  time  —  for  it  was  long,  long 
ago  —  there  lived  a  wonderful  man  named 
Merlin.  He  could  do  such  strange  things, 
and  he  was  so  very  wise,  that  he  was  called 
a  wizard. 

Merlin  was  a  great  lover  of  truth.  For 
this  reason  children  who  told  untruths  were 
often  brought  to  him,  so  that  he  might  cure 
them  of  their  fault. 

"  Let  us  take  our  child  to  the  Avonderful 
wizard,"  said  Pearl's  father. 

And  the  mother  said,   "  Yes,  let  us  take 


131 

her  to  Merlin.  He  will  cure  her !  "  So 
Pearl's  jiarents  went  to  the  glass  palace 
where  Merlin  lived. 

When   they   reached   Merlin's  palace,    the 
wise  old  man  said,  "  I  know  very  well  what 


I     ! 


is  the  matter  with  your  child ;  she  does  not 
love  the  truth." 

Poor  Pearl  hid  her  head  with  shame  and 
fear.  But  Merlin  said,  "Do  not  be  afraid. 
I  am  only  going  to  make  you  a  present." 

Then  the  wizard  opened  a  drawer  and  took 
from  it  a   lovely   necklace  with   a   diamond 


132 

clasp.  This  he  put  on  Pearl's  neck,  and 
told  her  parents  to  go  home  happy,  for  the 
little  girl  would  soon  be  cured. 

As  they  were  going  away.  Merlin  looked 
at  Pearl,  and  said,  "In  a  year  from  now  I 
shall  come  for  my  necklace.  Till  then  you 
must  not  dare  to  take  it  off." 


n. 


coarse 

satin 

truthful 

size 

sobbed 

tassels 

falsehood 

wrong 

choked 

weeping 

confessed 

coach 

Can  you  guess  what  the  necklace  was? 
It  was  the  wonderful  Necklace  of  Truth. 

Next  day  Pearl  went  to  school.  When  her 
schoolmates  saw  the  beautiful  necklace,  they 
crowded  around  her. 

"  Oh,  what  a  lovely  necklace !  Where  did 
you  get  it,  Pearl? " 

"  My  father  gave  it  to  me  for  a  Christmas 
present,"   said  Pearl. 

"  Oh,  look,  look ! "  cried  the  children. 
"The  diamond  has  turned  dim!" 


133 

Pearl  looked  down  at  her  necklace  and 
saw  that  the  lovely  clasp  was  changed  to 
coarse  glass.  Then  she  was  very  much 
afraid,  and  said,  "  I  will  tell  vou  the  truth  : 
the  wizard  Merlin  gave  it  to  me." 

At  once  the  diamond  was  as  bright  as 
before. 

The  girls  now  began  to  laugh,  because 
they  knew  that  only  children  who  told 
falsehoods  were  sent  to  Merlin. 

"  You  need  not  laugh,"  said  Pearl.  "  Merlin 
sent  a  lovelv  coach  to  bring  us.  It  Avas  drawn 
by  six  white  horses,  and  was  lined  with  satin, 
and  had  gold  tassels." 

She  stopped,  for  all  the  children  were  laugh- 
ing again.  Then  she  looked  at  her  necklace, 
and  —  what  do  you  think  ?  It  hung  down  to 
the  floor !  At  each  false  word  she  had  spoken, 
the  necklace  had  stretched  out  more  and  more. 

"  You  are  stretching  the  truth !  "  cried  the 
little  girls. 

Then  Pearl  confessed  that  all  she  had  told 
them  was  false ;  and  at  once  the  necklace 
changed  to  its  right  size. 


134 

"  But  what  did  Merlin  say  when  he  gave 
you  the  necklace?" 

"  He  said  it  was  a  present  for  a  truthful  —  " 

She  could  not  go  on  speaking.  The  neck- 
lace became  so  short  that  it  nearly  choked 
her. 

"0  dear,  no!"  sobbed  Pearl.  "He  said 
I  did  not  love  the  truth,  nor  speak  the 
truth." 

The  girls  did  not  laugh  now.  They  were 
sorry  for  Pearl  when  they  saAv  her  weeping. 

At  last  Pearl  was  cured.  She  saw  how 
wrong  and  how  foolish  it  is  to  tell  false- 
hoods. "Never  more  w^ill  I  tell  a  lie,"  said 
she.     And  she  kept  her  w^ord. 

Before  the  year  was  ended  Merlin  came 
for  his  necklace.  He  knew  that  Pearl  did 
not  need  it  now,  and  he  wanted  it  for 
another  little  girl. 

Since  Merlin  died,  no  one  can  tell  what 
has  become  of  the  wonderful  Necklace  of 
Truth.  Would  you  like  to  wear  it?  Are 
you    sure    the    diamond    would   always  keep 

bright?  —From  "Old  Fairy  Tales." 


135 
SPEAK   THE   TRUTH 

TO    BE    MEMORIZED 

Speak  tlie  truth ! 
Speak  it  boldly,  never  fear ; 
Speak  it  so  that  all  may  hear ; 
111  the  end  it  shall  appear 
Truth  is  best  in  age  and  youth. 

Speak  the  truth. 

Speak  the  truth  ! 
Truth  is  beautiful  and  brave, 
Strong  to  bless  and  strong  to  save ; 
Falsehood  is  a  cowardlv  knave : 
From  it  turn  thy  steps  in  youth  — 

Follow  truth. 

SAINT   VALENTINE 

Here  is  one  of  the  manv  stories  that 
have  been  told  about  Saint  Valentine. 

Father  Valentine  was  a  priest  who  lived  a 
long  time  ago.  He  spent  his  time  in  nurs- 
ing the   sick  and   in   comforting  the  sorrow- 


136 

ing.  As  he  went  about  among  his  people, 
the  children,  too,  found  a  kind  and  helpful 
friend. 

They  liked  to  talk  with  him,  and  to  run 
by  his  side  as  he  went  from  one  house  to 
another.  What  wonderful  stories  he  told 
them  about  the  birds  and  the  flowers !  How 
many  beautiful  things  he  taught .  them  as 
they  walked  together  through  the  forest  and 
by  the  river! 

Father  Valentine  loved  all  the  little  crea- 
tures of  the  woods  and  the  streams,  and  they 
seemed  to  love  him  in  return.  Tlie  birds 
would  come  at  his  call,  and  the  squirrels 
would  scamper  down  the  trees  to  take  food 
from  his  hand. 

Years  went  by,  and  at  last  the  good  priest 
became  too  old  to  visit  his  people.  How  they 
must  have  wished  to  hear  again  the  sound  of 
his  footsteps  at  the  door !  How  the  children 
must  have  missed  their  kind  teacher  and  the 
stories  that  he  told ! 

Father  Valentine  was  very  sad  because  he 
could  no  longer  go  about  from  home  to  home. 


137 

But  he  soon  found  a  way  by  which  he  could 
still  be  of  use  to  those  he  loved. 

As  he  sat  in  his  room  he  wrote  the  kind 
words  which  had  always  made  his  visits  so 
full  of  good  cheer.  Every  day  his  loving 
messages  were  sent  near  and  far.  They  were 
carried  by  the  boys  and  girls  who  had  learned 
from  him  to  be  happy  in  helping  others. 

Soon  his  friends  began  to  watch  for  the 
kind  words  that  were  sure  to  come  to  them 
whenever  they  were  in  need  of  help.  Even 
the  little  children,  when  they  were  ill,  Avould 
say,  "I  am  sure  that  Father  Valentine  will 
send  me  a  letter  to-dav." 

After  a  time  the  good  father  passed  away 
from  earth,  but  he  has  not  been  forgotten. 

Each  year,  when  the  fourteenth  of  Febru- 
ary comes  around,  we  still  keep  his  birthday. 


Think  of  the  lonely,  remember  the  sad, 
Be  kind  to  the  poor,  make  every  one  glad, 
On  good  old  Saint  Valentine's  Day. 


138 


A   FAMOUS    OLD    HOUSE 

fancy         buckles       victory  office 

bosom        ruffled         headciuarters       freedom 


ftlfTJ  I  I M 


Here  is  a  picture  of  a  famous  old  house. 
It  was  built  more  than  one  hundred  years 
ago,  and  it  still  stands,  painted  yellow  and 
white,  as  in  the  days  of  old.  People  come 
from  far  and  near  to  see  it,  and  perhaps  some 
day  you  will  yisit  it. 

Do  you  wish  to  know  why  so  many  people 
travel  miles  and  miles  to  see  this  old  ])lace? 

T\vo  great  men  once  lived  here.  The  lirst 
one  was  a  brave  general.  Long  ago  he  Avas 
called  from  his  own  home  to  take  command 


139 

of  an  army.  In  those  days,  the  yellow  and 
white  house  w^as  one  of  the  finest  places  for 
miles  around.  So  it  was  given  to  the  general 
for  his  headquarters. 

If  these  old  walls  could  only  speak,  what 
wonderful  stories  they  could  tell !  For  in 
this  house  many  plans  were  made,  which 
helped  to  bring  freedom  to  our  land. 

We  like  to  fancy  that  Ave  can  see  the  great 
general  going  in  and  out  of  the  front  door. 
He  used  to  wear  a  three-cornered  hat  and 
ruffled  shirt  bosom,  knee-breeches,  and  low 
shoes  with   silver  buckles. 

This  brave  and  noble  commander  led  his 
army  through  many  dangers  to  victory,  and 
he  afterward  became  the  first  pi'esident  of 
the  United  States.  You  need  not  be  told 
that  the  great  general  who  once  lived  in  the 
famous  old  house  was  George  Washington. 

After  many  years  the  old  house  became  the 
home  of  another  great  and  good  man.  He 
did  not  lead  armies,  nor  make  laws,  nor  hold 
office.  And  yet  few  men  in  our  country  have 
been  so  well  known  or  so  well  loved. 


140 

His  poems  are  read  in  all  parts  of  the  world, 
and  Lis  beautiful  thoughts  have  helped  hun- 
dreds and  hundreds  of  people  to  love  the 
right  and  to  hate  the  wrong. 

And  now  you  are  eager  to  speak  the  name 
of  the  great  poet  who  once  lived  in  the  famous 
old  house  —  Henry  Wads  worth  Longfellow. 


HIAWATHA'S   HUNTING 

Then  the  little  Hiawatha 
Learned  of  every  bird  its  language, 
Learned  their  names  and  all  their  secrets, 
How  they  built  their  nests  in  summer, 
Where  they  hid  themselves  in  winter,  — 
Talked  with  them  whene'er  he  met  them. 
Called  them  "Hiawatha's  chickens." 

Of  all  beasts  he  learned  the  language, 
Learned  their  names  and  all  their  secrets. 
How  the  beavers  built  their  lodges, 
Where  the  squirrels  hid  their  acorns, 
How  the  reindeer  ran  so  swiftly, 


141 

Why  the  rabbit  was  so  timid,  — 

Talked  with  them  whene'er  he  met  them, 

Called  them  "  Hiawatha's  brothers." 

Forth  into  the  forest  straightway 
All  alone  walked  Hiawatha 
Proudly,  with  his  boAy  and  ari'ows; 
And  the  birds  sang  round  him,  o'er  him, 
''  Do  not  shoot  us,  Hiawatha!  " 
Sang  the  robin,  sang  the  bluebird, 
"Do  not  shoot  us,  Hiawatha! '' 

And  the  rabbit  from  his  pathway 
Leaped  aside,  and  at  a  distance 
Sat  erect  upon  his  haunches. 
Half  in  fear  and  half  in  frolic 
Saying  to  the  little  hunter, 
"  Do  not  shoot  me,  Hiawatha  !  " 

But  he  heeded  not,  nor  heard  them, 
For  his  thoughts  were  with  the  red  deer ; 
On  their  tracks  his  eyes  were  fastened. 
Leading  downward  to  the  riyer. 
To  the  ford  across  the  riyer ; 
And  as  one  in  slumber  walked  he. 


142 


Hidden  in  the  alder  bushes, 
There  he  waited  till  the  deer  came, 
Till  he  saw  two  antlers  lifted, 
Saw  two  eyes  look  from  the  thicket, 
Saw  two  nostrils  point  to  windward, 
And  a  deer  came  down  the  pathway, 
Flecked  with  leafy  light  and  shadow. 


143 

And  his  heart  within  him  fluttered, 
Trembled  like  the  leaves  above  him, 
As  the  deer  came  down  the  pathway. 

LONGFELLOW   WITH   HIS   CHILIJREN 


eager 


birthday 
planned        questions 
grief  meant 


nursery  elm 

musician  laAvn 

playfellow       loss 


The  famous  old  house  looks  very  quiet  and 
lonely  in  the  picture.  But  there  was  a  time 
when  many  children  ran 
about  its  halls  and  played 
upon  the  lawn. 

"  How  many  children  did 
Mr.  Longfellow  have  ?  Did 
he  have  any  boys  ?  What 
were  their  names?  " 

These  questions  are  asked 
again   and   again  by  little 
people  who  keep   the    birthday  of   the   poet 
and  wish  to  learn  about  his  life. 


144 

In  his  journal,  Mr.  Longfellow  tells  us  about 
his  children,  and  it  is  there  we  may  find 
answers  to  all  our  questions. 

The  poet's  eldest  son  was  named  Charles. 
When  Charles  was  two  years  old  his  little 
brother  Ernest  was  born.  Longfellow  then 
moved  his  books  into  another  room  and  gave 
up  his  study  to  his  babies. 

And  so  the  room  in  which  Washington  had 
planned  battles  became  the  nursery  of  the 
Longfellow  children.  Did  any  children  ever 
have  a  more  famous  nursery? 

In  this  room  which  once  belonged  to  Wash- 
ington we  like  to  think  that  the  children 
heard  again  and  again  the  story  of  our  first 
President. 

When  Ernest  was  but  a  few  days  old  his 
father  told  a  friend  that  the  little  newcomer 
was  a  great  musician.  Do  you  know  what  the 
poet  meant  by  this  ? 

While  Charles  and  Ernest  were  still  little 
boys,  their  baby  sister  Fannie  came  to  live  in 
the  nursery.  Just  as  she  was  old  enough  to 
run  about,  the  dear  little  girl  died.     Then  the 


145 

house  was  full  of  sorrow.  Many  of  the  poems 
Longfellow  wrote  at  this  time  tell  the  story  of 
his  mef  at  the  loss  of  his  little  daughter. 

diaries  was  six  years  old  and  Ernest  four, 
Tyhen  their  father  first  took  them  to  school. 
He  left  them  sitting  on  little  chairs  among 
the  other  children  in  an  old  house  near  a 
large  elm  tree. 

It  was  under  this  same  tree  that  Washing- 
ton took  command  of  the  American  army. 

As  time  Ayent  on  three  little  girls  took  the 
places  of  the  boys  in  the  nursery.  How  all 
these  children  loyed  their  father!  They 
thought  him  the  best  playfellow  in  the  world, 
and  so  he  was. 

He  made  toys  for  them,  tauo'ht  them  games, 
and  wrote  letters  which  he  placed  under  their 
pillows  for  them  to  find  in  the  morning. 

n. 

sealing  parties  proyide  wreaths 

coasting        pleasure        happiness      package 

Longfellow  writes  in  his  journal  about 
coasting  with   the  boys  for  hours  upon   the 

10 — 3r 


146 

hillside,  and  of  working  hard  with  all  the 
children  making  a  snow  house  in  the  front 
yard. 

Again  he  tells  of  charming  birthday  parties 
when  children  played  in  the  hay  and  scram- 
bled for  sugar  plums.  These  parties  always 
ended  with  a  fine  birthday  supper. 

On  the  first  of  May  the  children  sometimes 
had  a  May  party.  The  girls  wore  wreaths 
upon  their  heads  and  danced  around  the  May 
pole.  Then  they  all  went  to  the  summer 
house  for  a  feast. 

In  summer  the  Longfellow  children  often 
went  to  the  seaside  with  their  father  and 
mother.  All  day  long  they  played  in  the 
sand  and  waded  in  the  water. 

But  a  great  and  terrible  sorrow  came  sud- 
denly to  the  Longfellow  home.  One  morning, 
as  Mrs.  Longfellow  was  sealing  a  package 
with  hot  wax,  her  dress  caught  fire.  Before 
the  flames  could  be  put  out  she  was  so  badly 
burned  that  she  died  soon  after. 

Neyer  again  was  the  poet  full  of  joy  as 
he    had    always   been   before.     For  him   the 


147 

happiness  of  life  was  over.  But  he  never 
forgot  to  i)rovide  for  the  pleasure  of  his  chil- 
dren. 

Longfellow  has  told  us  about  his  three 
daughters  in  a  beautiful  poem  called  "  The 
Children's  Hour."  He  has  also  written  about 
them  in  a  letter  to  a  little  girl  which  you 
will  be  glad  to  read. 

A   LETTER   TO   A    LITTLE    GIRL 

Edith  exactly         merriest  piazza 

Allegra        memory        encamped        nankeen 

ISTahaxt,  August  18,  1859. 

Your  letter  followed  me  down  here  by  the 
seaside,  wliere  I  am  passing  the  summer  with 
my  three  little  girls. 

The  oldest  is  about  your  size  ;  but  as  little 
girls  keep  changing  every  year  I  can  never 
remember  exactly  how  old  she  is,  and  have  to 
ask  her  mamma,  who  has  a  better  memorv 
than  I  have.  Her  name  is  Alice.  I  never 
forget  that.  She  is  a  nice  girl  and  loves 
poetry  almost  as  much  as  vou  do. 


148 

The  second  is  Editli,  with  blue  eyes  and 
beautiful  gohlen  locks  which  1  sometimes 
call  her  nankeen  hair  to  make .  her  laugh. 
She  is  a  busy  little  woman  and  wears  gray 
boots. 

The  younoest  is  Allegra,  which  you  know 
means  merry;  and  she  is  the  merriest  little 
thing  you  eyer  saw  —  always  singing  and 
laughing  all  over  the  house. 

These  are  my  three  little  girls,  and  Mr. 
Read  has  painted  them  all  in  one  picture 
which  I  hope  you  will  sec  some  day. 

They  bathe  in  the  sea  and  dig  in  the  sand 
and  patter  about  the  piazza  all  day  long. 
Sometimes  they  go  to  see  the  Indians  en- 
cam])ed  on  the  shore,  and  buy  baskets  and 
bows  and  arrows. 

I  do  not  say  anything  about  the  two  boys. 
They  are  such  noisy  fellows  it  is  of  no  use 
to  talk  about  them. 

And  now,  Miss  Emily,  giye  my  loye  to 
your  papa,  and  good  night  with  a  kiss  from 
his  friend  and  yours, 

Henry  W.  Longfellow. 


(149) 


150 
THE    OPEN   WINDOW 

The  old  house  bv  the  lindens 

Stood  silent  in  the  shade, 
And  on  the  graveled  pathway 

The  light  and  shadow  played, 

I  saw  the  nursery  windows 

Wide  open  to  the  air, 
But  the  faces  of  the  children, 

They  were  no  longer  there. 

The  large  Newfoundland  house  dog 
Was  standing  by  the  door ; 

He  looked  for  his  little  playmates. 
Who  would  return  no  more. 

They  walked  not  under  the  lindens, 
They  played  not  in  the  hall : 

But  shadow,  and  silence,  and  sadness 
Were  hanging  over  all. 

The  birds  sans;  in  the  branches 
With  sweet,  familiar  tone ; 

But  the  voices  of  the  children 
Will  be  heard  in  dreams  alone ! 

—  Henry  Wadswokth  Loxgfellow. 


151 


THE   VILLAGE   BLACKSMITH 

Under  a  spreading  chestnut-tree 

The  village  smithy  stands ; 
The  smith,  a  mighty  man  is  he, 

With  large  and  sinewy  hands ; 
And  the  muscles  of  his  brawny  arms 

Are  sti'ong  as  iron  bands. 

His  hair  is  crisp,  and  black,  and  long, 

His  face  is  like  the  tan ; 
His  brow  is  wet  with  honest  sweat ; 

He  earns  whate'er  he  can. 
And  looks  the  whole  world  in  the  face, 

For  he  owes  not  any  man. 

Week  in,  week  out,  from  morn  till  night. 
You  can  hear  his  bellows  blow ; 

You  can  hear  him  swing  his  heayy  sledge. 
With  measured  beat  and  slow, 

Like  a  sexton  ringing  the  village  bell. 
When  the  evening  sun  is  low. 


Fiuui  tlji;  I'^iuLiug  Ijy  ^"'  i'-'l\^'"  i^^iU'iji't-r. 


Kiigrav.a  bv  Ili-my  W.  I'.-jkwfil. 


(152) 


THE   VILLAGE    BLACKSMITH. 


153 

And  children  coming  home  from  school 

Look  in  at  the  open  door ; 
They  love  to  see  the  flaming  forge, 

xVnd  hear  the  bellows  roar. 
And  catch  the  burning  s|)arks  that  fly 

Like  chaft"  from  a  threshing  floor. 

He  goes  on  Sunday  to  the  church, 

And  sits  among  his  boys ; 
He  hears  the  parson  pray  and  preach, 

He  hears  his  daughter's  voice 
Singing  in  the  village  choir, 

And  it  makes  his  heart  rejoice. 

It  sounds  to  him  like  her  mothers  voice, 

Singing  in  Paradise ! 
He  needs  must  think  of  her  once  more. 

How  in  the  grave  she  lies ; 
And  with  his  hard,  rough  hand  he  wipes 

A  tear  out  of  his  eves. 

Toiling,  —  rejoicing,  —  sorrowing. 

Onward  through  life  he  goes ; 
Each  morning  sees  some  task  begun, 


154 

Each  evening  sees  its  close ; 
Something  attempted,  something  done, 
Has  earned  a  night's  repose. 

Thanks,  thanks  to  thee,  my  Avorthy  friend, 
For  the  lesson  tlioii  hast  taught ! 

Thus  at  the  flaming  forge  of  life 
Our  fortunes  must  be  wrought ; 

Thus  on  its  sounding  anvil  shaped 
Each  burning  deed  and  tliought. 

—  Henby  W.  Lojs'gfellow. 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  THE  YOUNG 
SURVEYOR 

beyond      compass     knowledge        Yernon 
acres         bargain      Englishman     undertake 
measure    surveyor    gentleman        interesting 

It  is  very  interesting  to  know  how  George 
Washington  passed  his  boyhood.  In  many 
wavs  he  was  no  better  than  other  bovs.  He 
had  a  quick  temper,  and  he  soon  found  that 
he  must  learn  to  control  it. 

But  he  wished  to  make  a  good  and  useful 


155  ■ 

man  of  himself.  This  story  tells  some  of  the 
ways  in  which  he  tried  to  do  this. 

He  had  learned  to  survey  land,  and  this 
knowledge  soon  became  of  great  use  to  him. 
When  he  was  sixteen  years  old,  he  went  to 
liye  with  his  brother  Lawrence  at  Mount 
Vernon. 

He  took  his  compass  and  surveyor's  chain 
with  him.  Nearly  every  day  he  went  out 
into  the  fields  to  measure  his  brother's  land. 

A  tall,  white-haired  gentleman  often  came 
into  the  fields  to  see  what  Washington  was 
doinii;,  and  to  talk  vrith  him.  This  was  Sir 
Thomas  Fairfax.  He  had  lately  come  to 
America  from  his  home  in  England.  He 
owned  thousands  of  acres  of  land  in  the  new 
country  beyond  the  mountains. 

Sir  Thomas  was  very  fond  of  hunting,  and 
he  liked  to  have  Washington  go  with  liim. 
They  often  rode  out  together,  and  the  old 
Englishman  came  to  like  his  young  friend 
very  much.  He  saw  that  the  boy  was  manly 
and  brave  and  very  careful  in  all  that  he  did. 

"  Here  is  a  boy  who  likes  to  make  himself 


156 

useful;  I  can  trust  him,"  he  said.  And  Sir 
Thomas  soon  made  a  bargain  with  young 
Washington  to  survey   his  wikl  lands. 

Washington  loved  out-of-door  life,  and  he 
was  very  fond  of  riding  on  horseback.  So  lie 
was  glad  to  undertake  the  work  of  surveying 
land  for  Sir  Thomas. 

SURA^EYING   IN    THE    WILDERNESS 

cousin  enjoyed  paid 

yelled  drummed  swam 

One  bright  day  in  early  spring  the  young 
surveyor  started  out  on  his  first  trip  across 
the  mountains.  With  him  was  a  cousin  of 
Sir  Thomas  Fairfax.  Eacli  young  man  rode 
a  good  horse  and  carried  a  gun. 

As  there  were  no  roads  in  the  wild  country 
they  found  their  way  tlirough  paths  in  tlie 
forest.  They  climbed  mountains  and  swam 
rivers.  At  night  tliey  slept  in  a  hunter's 
cabin  or  by  a  cam])  lire  in  the  woods. 

Often  they  were  wet  and  cold  and  without 
shelter.     They  cooked  their  meat  over  the  fire 


157 


on  forked  sticks,  and  they  ii-sed  wooden  chips 
and  leaves  for  plates. 

One  day  they  met  a  band  of  Indians. 
Tliere  were  thirty  of  them,  and  their  bodies 
were  half  cov- 
ered with  war 
l)aint. 

The  Indians 
seemed  very 
friendly.  They 
built  a  huge 
tire  under  the 
trees  and 
danced  tlieir 
w  a  r  dance. 
One  of  tliem 
drummed  on 
a  deerskin 
stretched    over 

an     iron    l)Ot  George  Washington,  the  Surveyor. 

The  others  whooped  and  yelled  as  they 
danced  around  the  tire.  It  was  a  strange  sight, 
and  the  young  men  looked  on  with  wonder. 

For  w^eeks  Washington  and  ids  comi)anion 


158 

lived  in  the  forest.  They  found  the  best 
places  for  hunting,  and  the  best  lands  for 
farms. 

When  they  returned  home  Sir  Thomas  was 
much  pleased  with  all  that  the  young  men 
told  him  about  tlie  new  country.  He  made 
up  his  mind  to  move  across  the  mountains 
and  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  life  upon  his 
own  lands. 

George  Avas  well  paid  for  his  work  of 
surveying.  This  was  the  first  money  he 
had  ever  earned,  and  he  enjoyed  spending  it 
because  he  had  worked  hard  for  it. 


chain 
ashes 
rifle 


ABRAHAM   LINCOLN 

His  New  Home 
I. 


patient 

potatoes 

inclosed 


Kentucky 

Indiana 

household 


furrv 

bacon 

loosed 


In  the  autumn  after  Abraham  Lincoln  was 
eight  years  old,  his  parents  left  their  Ken- 
tucky home  and  moved  to  Indiana. 


159 

They  had  no  wafron,  and  all  their  house- 
hold  goods  were  carried  on  the  backs  of  two 
horses.  At  night  they  slept  on  the  ground, 
sheltered  only  by  the  trees. 

It  was  not  more  than  fifty  or  sixty  miles 
from  the  old  home  to  the  new;  but  it  was 
a  i^ood  many  days  before  the  family  reached 
their  journey's  end.  Oyer  a  part  of  the 
way  there  was  no  road.  The  moyers  had 
sometimes  to  cut  a  path  through  the  thick 
Ayoods. 

The  boy  was  tall  and  yei'y  strong  for  his 
age.  He  already  knew  how  to  handle  an  ax, 
and  few  men  could  shoot  with  a  rifle  better 
than  he.  He  was  his  father's  helper  in  all 
kinds  of  work. 

It  was  in  Noyember  when  the  family  came 
to  the  place  which  was  to  be  their  future 
home.  AYinter  was  near  at  hand.  There 
was  no  house  nor  shelter  of  any  kind.  What 
would  become  of  the  patient,  tired  mother, 
and  the  gentle  little  sister? 

Hardly  had  they  reached  the  spot  chosen  for 
their  home  than  Lincoln  and  his  father  were 


160 


at  work  with  their  axes.    In  a  short  time  they 
had  built  w^hat  they  called  a  camp. 

.  This  camp  w^as  but  a  rude  shed  made  of 
poles  and  covered  Avith  leaves  and  branches. 


161 

It  was  inclosed  on  three  sides.  The  fourtli 
side  was  left  open,  and  in  front  of  it  a  tire 
was  built. 

This  lire  was  kept  burning  all  the  time. 
It  warmed  the  inside  of  the  camp.  A  big- 
iron  kettle  was  hung  over  it  by  means  of  a 
chain  and  pole.  In  the  kettle  the  fat  bacon, 
the  beans,  and  the  corn  were  boiled  for  the 
family's  dinner  and  supper.  In  the  hot 
ashes  the  good  mother  baked  corn  cakes,  and 
sometimes,  perhaps,  a  few  potatoes. 

One  end  of  the  camp  was  used  as  a  kitchen. 
The  rest  of  the  space  was  the  family  sitting 
room  and  bedroom.  The  floor  was  covered 
with  leaves,  and  on  these  were  spread  the 
furry  skins  of  deer  and  bears  and  other 
animals. 

n. 

Bible  hoeing  supplied  strength 

busy  plowing         chopping  taught 

In  this  camp  the  Lincoln  family  spent  their 
first  winter  in  Indiana.  How  very  cold  and 
dreary  that  winter  must  have  been  !     Think  of 

11 — 3r 


162 

the  stormy  nights,  of  the  howling  wind,  of  the 
snow  and  the  sleet  and  the  bitter  frost !  It  is 
not  much  wonder  that  the  mother's  strength 
began  to  fail  before  the  spring  months  came. 

It  was  a  busy  winter  for  Thomas  Lincoln. 
Every  day  his  ax  was  heard  in  the  woods. 
He  was  clearing  the  ground,  so  that  in  the 
spring  it  might  be  planted.  And  he  was 
cutting  logs  for  his  new  house.  For  he  had 
made  up  his  mind,  now,  to  have  something 
better  than  a  cabin  to  live  in. 

The  woods  were  full  of  wild  animals.  It 
was  easy  for  the  boy  and  his  father  to  kill 
plenty  of  game,  and  thus  keep  the  family 
supplied  with  meat. 

Lincoln,  with  chopping  and  hunting  and 
trapping,  was  very  busy.  He  had  but  little 
time  to  play.  Since  he  had  no  playmates  we 
do  not  know  that  he  even  wanted  to  play. 

With  his  mother  he  read  over  and  over 
the  Bible  stories  which  both  of  them  loved 
so  well.  And,  during  the  cold,  stormy  days, 
when  he  could  not  leave  the  camp,  his 
mother  taught  him  how  to   write. 


163 

In  the  spring  tlie  new  honse  was  built.  It 
was  only  a  log  house,  with  one  room  below 
and  a  loft  above.  But  it  was  so  much  bet- 
ter than  the  old  cabin  in  Kentucky  that  it 
seemed  like  a  })alace. 

The  family  moved  into  the  new  house 
before  the  floor  was  laid,  or  any  door  was 
hung  at  the  doorway. 

Then  came  the  plowing  and  the  planting 
and  the  hoeing.  Everybody  was  busy  from 
daylight  to  dark. 


silence 

finished 

buried 


ABRAHAM    LINCOLN 

His   Priest   Great   Sorrow 

I. 

postage  autumn 

preacher        sycamore 
grieving         minister 


duties 

comfort 

feeble 


The  summer  passed,  and  autumn  came. 
Then  the  poor  mother's  strength  gave  out. 
She  could  no  longer  go  about  her  household 
duties.  She  had  to  depend  more  and  more 
upon  the  help  that  her  children  could  give  her. 


164 

At  length  she  became  too  feeble  to  leave 
her  bed.  She  called  the  boy  to  her  side. 
She  put  her  arm  around  him  and  said : 
"  My  boy,  I  shall  very  soon  leave  you.  I 
know  that  you  will  always  be  good  and  kind 
to  vour  sister  and  father.  Trv  to  live  as  I 
liave  taught  you,  and  to  love  your  heavenly 
Father." 

Then  she  fell  asleep,  never  to  wake  again 
on  this  earth. 

Under  a  big  sycamore  tree,  half  a  mile 
from  the  house,  the  neighbors  dug  the  grave 
for  tlie  mother  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  And 
there  they  buried  her  in  silence  and  in  great 
sorrow. 

In  all  that  new  countrv  there  was  no 
church ;  and  no  minister  could  be  found  to 
speak  words  of  comfort  and  hope  to  the 
grieving  ones  around  the  grave. 

But  the  boy  remembered  a  preacher  whom 
they  had  known  in  Kentucky.  The  name  of 
this  preacher  was  David  Elkin.  If  he  would 
only  come ! 

And    so,  after   all    was   over,  the   lad    sat 


165 

down  and  wrote  a  letter  to  David  Elkin. 
Abraham  was  only  a  child  nine  years  old, 
but  he  believed  that  the  good  man  would 
remember  his  mother,  and  come. 

It  was  no  easv  task  to  write  a  letter. 
Paper  and  ink  were  not  things  of  common 
use,  as  they  are  with  us.  A  pen  had  to  be 
made  from  the  quill  of  a  goose. 

But  at  last  the  letter  was  finished  and  sent 
to  Kentucky.  How  it  was  carried  T  do  not 
know,  for  the  mails  were  few  in  those  days, 
and  postage  was  very  high. 


IL 


upright        forded 
justice         earliest 
reward         preached 


funeral 

sym})athy 

reverence 


months 

hymns 

duty 


Months  passed.  Tlie  leaves  were  again  on 
the  trees.  The  wihl  Howers  were  blossoming 
in  the  woods.     At  last  the  preacher  came. 

He  had  ridden  a  hundred  miles  on  horse- 
back. He  had  forded  rivers  and  traveled 
through  pathless  woods.     He  had  dared  the 


16(3 

dangers  of  the  wild  forest.  And  all  in 
answer  to  the  lad's  letter. 

He  had  no  hope  of  reward  save  that  which 
is  given  to  every  man  who  does  his  duty. 
He  did  not  know  that  there  would  come  a 
time  when  the  greatest  preachers  in  the 
world  would  envy  him  his  sad  task. 

And  now  the  friends  and  neighbors  gath- 
ered again  under  the  great  sycamore  tree. 
The  funeral  sermon  was  preached.  Hymns 
were  sung.  A  prayer  was  offered,  and  words 
of  comfort  were  spoken. 

From  that  time  forward  the  mind  of 
Abraham  Lincoln  was  tilled  with  high  and 
noble  thoughts.  In  his  earliest  childhood  his 
mother  had  taught  him  to  love  truth  and 
justice,  to  be  honest  and  upright  among  men, 
and  to  honor  God.  These  lessons  he  never 
foro:ot. 

Long  afterAvard,  when  the  world  had  come 
to  know  him  as  a  very  great  man,  he  said : 
"  All  that  I  am,  or  hope  to  be,  I  owe  to  my 
angel  mother." 

—  James  Baldwin. 


167 


HANA    AND    TORA 


Theik 
1 

Home 

Tora 

Ja[)aii 

Ja])ane8e 

frowns 

Haiia 

niiiToi' 

carriage 

hastens 

Hana  is  a  little  Ja[)anese  girl.  Her  name, 
in  the  language  of  Jai)an,  means  Hower  or 
blossom.  If  YOU  should  see  her  you  would 
say  tluit  she  is  as  beautiful  as  the  gayest 
Hower  in  the  garden. 

Tora  is  her  brother  and  his  name  means 
tiger.  He  is  called  Tora  because  his  father 
and  mother  wish  him  to  be  as  strong  and 
as  brave  as  a  tiger. 

Hana  and  Tora  live  in  one  of  the  beau- 
tiful islands  of  Japan.  Let  us  visit  them 
in  their  home  on  the  other  side  of  the  world. 

We  must  cross  the  ocean  to  reach  this 
far  away  land.  So  we  go  on  board  a  great 
steamer  and  for  davs  and  davs  we  sail  over 
the  sea. 

At  last  we    come    to    the   city    where   our 


168 

little  friends  live.  We  leave  the  ship  and 
climb  into  a  two-wheeled  carriage  which  is 
drawn  by  a  man.  He  runs  along  the  street 
with  our  carriage  almost  as  fast  as  a  horse 
can    trot. 


How  strange  everything  seems.  The  men, 
Avomen,  and  children  all  wear  gowns  that 
look  like  dresses.  They  clatter  along  in 
wooden  shoes,  and  they  carry  paper  um- 
brellas. We  ride  through  narrow  streets. 
There  are  no  sidewalks  nor  green  lawns. 

And  now  our  carriage  stops.  We  have 
come  to  the  home  of  Hana  and  Tora.  The 
front  of  the  house  is  open  like  a  doll's  play- 


169 

house,  and  we  can  see  through  to  the  garden 
beyond. 

How  clean  everything  looks !  The  porch 
shines  like  a  mirror.  All  the  floors  are 
covered  with  matting  made  of  the  whitest 
straw.  Even  the  road  in  front  of  the  house 
is  swept. 

We  walk  toward  the  house,  and  a  little 
girl  comes  in  from  the  garden.  She  lias  a 
clear  yellow  skin,  bright  black  eyes,  and 
smooth  black  hair.  This  is  Hana,  and  she 
hastens  to  iireet  us. 

She  drops  down  on  her  knees,  and  bows  so 
low  that  her  head  touches  the  matting.  Her 
mother  will  soon  be  at  home,  Hana  says,  and 
she  begs  us  to  come  in. 

Does  she  ask  us  to  take  off  our  hats  ?  Oh, 
no,  she  expects  us  to  take  oft"  our  shoes.  The 
Japanese  always  leave  their  shoes  outside 
Avlien  they  go  into  a  house. 

Again  and  again  the  polite  little  girl  bows 
her  head  to  the  floor  as  we  enter.  We  sit 
down  on  the  thick  matting,  for  in  the  houses 
of  Japan  there  are  no  cliairs. 


170 


II. 


closet  pickles         alphabet  knives 

parlor  pockets        embroidered       (piilts 

observe       greetings      maidservant       screens 

Little  Hana  looks  like  a  butterfly  in  her 
loose  dress  embroidered  all  over  with  bright 
flowers.  Her  sleeves  are  very  large,  and  a 
wide  sash  of  soft  red  silk  is  tied  around  her 
waist. 

And  now  Hana's  mother  returns,  and  Tora 
comes  running  in  from  his  play.  There  are 
more  bows  and  more  greetings. 

Tora  is  dressed  in  a  plain  blue  gOAvn  very 
much  like  his  sister's.  Both  the  children 
have  large  pockets  in  their  sleeves  where 
thev  carrv  their  ])lavthin2:s. 

Our  friends  invite  us  to  spend  tlie  night 
with  them.  We  are  very  glad  to  do  so.  They 
take  us  to  the  parlor,  which  is  at  the  back  of 
the  house. 

It  is  now  time  for  supper.  A  small  table, 
about  ten  inches  high,  is  placed  before  each 


171 


person  in  the  room.  We  sit  on  the  floor  as 
we  eat.  A  little  maidservant  brings  in  cakes 
and  candies  shaped  like  tlowers.  She  kneels 
and  bows  low  as  she  hands  them  to  us. 


Next  we  have  sonp,  which  we  drink  from 
small  boAvls.  Then  come  pickles  and  strange 
kinds  of  food  that  we  have  never  before  seen. 
Last  of  all  rice  is  served  from  a  large,  round, 
wooden  box,  and  we  drink  our  tea  from  tiny 
cups. 

There  are  no  knives  and  no  forks,  and  so 


172 

we  observe  our  Japanese  friends  as  they  eat 
with  two  long  wooden  sticks.  Then  we  take 
our  chop  sticks  and  try  to  eat  the  rice  as  they 
do.  Hana  and  Tora  watch  us,  but  they  are 
too  polite  to  smile. 

After  the  supper  is  over,  the  grown  people 
sit  on  the  floor  and  talk  to  one  another,  or 
watch  the  children  at  their  games.  Hana 
and  Tora  play  with  small  cards  on  which  are 
printed  the  strange-looking  letters  of  the 
Japanese  alphabet. 

And  so  the  evening  passes  and  bedtime 
comes.  The  little  maidservant  takes  us  up- 
stairs. We  see  no  beds,  and  we  wonder  wdiere 
we  shall  sleep.  But  screens  are  soon  drawn 
together,  and  a  room  is  made  for  us. 

Then  the  little  nuxid  slides  back  anotlier 
screen,  and  there  in  the  wall  is  a  closet.  Out 
of  this  she  takes  soft,  thick  quilts,  and  spreads 
them  on  the  matting,  one  on  top  of  another. 
For  a  pillow  she  brings  each  of  us  a  small 
block  of  wood. 

We  do  not  like  the  w^ooden  pillows,  but  we 
sleep  soundly  all  night  in  our  beds  on  the  floor. 


173 

HANA   AND   TORA 

Their  Festival  Days 

I. 

merry  alcove  festival  polite 

packed         budding         storehouse         sashes 

A  BEAUTIFUL  garden  lies  back  of  the  house 
where  Hana  and  Tora  live. 

In  Japan  the  people  love  the  flowering 
trees  and  plant  them  in  their  gardens.  Now 
it  is  early  springtime  and  the  plum  trees  are 
just  beginning  to  burst  into  bloom. 

The  cliildren  ask  us  to  go  Avith  them  and 
look  for  the  first  plum  blossoms.  The  pink 
buds  are  pushing  out  of  their  brown  coverings. 
"  Oh,  I  am  so  dad !  "  Hana  savs.  "  Soon 
the  peach  trees  will  bloom,  and  then  it  will 
be  time  for  the  Doll  Festival. 

"How  I  wish  I  could  show  you  my  dolls! 
I  have  more  than  a  hundred,  but  they  are  all 
packed  away  in  the  storehouse. 

"  Some  of  them  are  very  old.  They  used 
to   belong   to    my    grandmother   and   to   my 


174 

great-grandmother.  The  doll  I  like  best  was 
given  to  me  when  I  was  a  baby.  It  is  as 
large  as  I  am,  and  it  can  wear  my  clothes. 

"When  the  Doll  Festival  comes  I  have  a 
merry  time.  In  the  morning  when  I  get  np 
I  find  all  my  dolls  waiting  for  me  in  the 
guest  room. 

"  With  them  are  doll  houses,  little  tables, 
sets  of  dishes,  and  boxes  full  of  pretty  gowns 
and  sashes.  The  first  thing  I  do  is  to  dress 
all  the  dolls  in  their  best  clothes. 

"  Of  course  they  must  have  something  to 
eat,  for  it  is  the  Feast  of  Dolls. 

"  I  make  tea  for  them  and  put  dishes  of 
candy  and  cake  and  rice  on  their  little  tables. 
It  is  not  polite  to  leave  anything  on  one's 
plate,  and  so  Tora  and  I  have  all  the  food 
that  the  dolls  do  not  eat. 

"  For  three  whole  days  I  can  play  with  my 
dolls.  Then  I  take  oft'  their  beautiful  clothes 
and  put  on  their  sleeping  coats.  My  mother 
packs  them  in  their  boxes  and  stores  them 
away  for  another  year,  nntil  the  Feast  of 
Dolls  comes  again." 


175 


II. 


whole 
swords 


current 
success 


images 
generals 


rustle 
famous 


best 


"  Tora  does  not  care  for  the  Feast  of 
Dolls,  because  that  is  a  girls'  festival. 

The  Feast  of  Flags 

is  the  bovs'  day." 

-Oh.    yes,"    Tora 

says,     '•  I    think    the 

Festival  is  the  very 

ay  of  the  whole  year. 

Then    everybody    Hies    kites    and    the 

boys  have  their  feast. 

"  What  fun  it  is  to  see  the  huge 
paper  fishes  flying  over  all  the  houses 
and  oardens!  Some  of  the  fishes  are 
as  large  as  a  man.  They  open  their 
mouths  and  swim  about  in  the  air  as 
if  they  were  in  the  water.  All  day 
long  they  flap  their  fins  and  tails  and  rustle 
in  the  wind." 

"  But  why  are  so  many  of  voiir  kites  made 
like  fishes?  "  we  ask. 


176 

"  Because  there  is  one  kind  of  fisli  in  our 
country  so  strong  and  l)rave  that  he  swims  up 
stream  and  leaps  the  waterfalls,"  Tora  an- 
swered. "  So  Japanese  parents  fly  kites  made 
like  fishes  to  help  their  sons  I'emember  that 
they  must  struggle  bravely  to  win  success.     , 

''  There  are  many  kinds  of  fish,  my  father 
savs,  that  can  float  down  the  stream  with  the 
current;  but  there  is  only  one  fish  that  can 
swim  up  the  stream  and  leap  over  a  waterfall. 

"  We  have  many  other  kites  too.  Some  of 
them  are  shaped  like  butterflies.  Some  are 
shaped  like  birds  and  they  make  a  singing 
noise  when  the  wind  blows  through  them. 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  Flag  Festival  I 
find  all  my  toys  in  the  guest  room  where 
Hana  finds  her  dolls. 

"  Among  my  toys  are  wooden  soldiers 
older  than  Hana's  oldest  dolls.  My  grand- 
father's grandfather  used  to  play  with  them 
when  he  was  a  little  boy. 

'•  And  there  are  banners  and  swords,  and 
images  of  the  famous  generals  of  Japan 
dressed  in  splendid  armor.     My  father  always 


177 

plays  with  me  on  tlie  day  of  the  FUig  Festi- 
val, and  lie  tells  nie  about  the  brave  soldiers 
of  our  country. 

"  In  the  evening  the  people  light  their 
prettiest  paper  lanterns,  and  hang  them  in 
the  gardens  and  before  every  house  and  store. 

"  Sometimes  my  father  takes  me  boat- 
riding,  and  the  most  beautiful  sight  of  all  is 
the  river  with  the  many  colored  lights  twin- 
klino;  from  the  boats." 

Hana  and  Tora  tell  us  about  other  great 
festivals  of  their  country,  and  they  invite 
us  to  visit  them  again  at  the  time  of  the 
Feast  of  Cherry  Blossoms. 


A  dip  of  the  nose, 
A  turn  of  the  toes, 
A  spread  of  the  hand, 
A  bend  of  the  knees  — 
It  takes  all  these 

To  say  "  Good  day  " 
In  chrysanthemum  land 

So  far  away. 


178 


MARCH 

In  March  come  the  March  winds ; 

Tliey  l)h)\v  and  they  Woav, 
Tliey  sweep  np  the  hrown  leaves, 

That  green  ones  may  grow. 

SKhECTED. 

APRIL 

April,  April,  are  von  here? 

Oh  !  how  fresh  the  wind  is  hlowing ! 
See  !     Tlie  sky  is  bright  and  clear ; 

Oh  !  how  green  the  grass  is  growing  ! 

—  DouA  Reeu  Goodale. 
MAY 

Robins  in  the  tree  top ; 

Blossoms  in  the  grass ; 
Green  things  a-growing. 

Everywhere  you  i)ass; 
Sudden  little  breezes ; 

Showers  of  silver  dew  ; 
Black  bough  and  bent  twig 

Budding  out  anew. 

—  T.  P..  Aldrtch. 


170 


EASTEll  SOXG 


TO    IJE    MEMORIZED 


Snowdrops  !    lift  your  timid 
lieads, 
All  tlie  earth  is  waking; 
Field     and     forest,     brown 
and  dead, 
Into  life  are  waking.  <- 

Lilies !    lilies  !    Easter  calls  ! 

Rise  to  meet  the  dawning 
Of  the  blessed  light  that  falls 

Thronsxh  the  Easter 


morning. 


AVaken,  sleeping  butterflies, 
Burst  Yonr  narrow  in-ison  ! 

«  * 

Spread  your  golden  wings  and  rise, 
For  the  Lord  is  risen. 


—  Mary.  A.  Lathbttry. 


From  "  Liitle  Pilgrim  Sonr/y" 
Used  hy  permimion  of  the  Biglon-  a-  .Hdiii  Co. 


ISO 
THE   SONd   OF   THE   POPPY   SEED 

TO    V>K    MEMORIZED 

Little  brown  brother,  oh  !  little  brown  brother, 

Are  you  awake  in  the  dark? 
Here  we  lie  cozily,  close  to  each  other ; 

Hark  to  the  song  of  the  lark  — 
"  Waken !  "  the  lark  says,  "  Avaken  and  dress 
yon, 

Put  on  your  green  coats  and  gay, 
Bhie  sky  will  shine  on  you,  sunshine  caress 

you, 
Waken  !  'tis  morning —  'tis  May  1  " 

Little  brown  brother,  oh  !  little  brown  brother, 

What  kind  of  flower  will  you  be  ? 
rU  be  a  poppy  —  all  white,  like  my  mother, 

Do  be  a  poppy  like  me. 
What!    you're   a   sunflower?      How    I    shall 
miss  YOU, 

When  you're  grown  golden  and  high ! 
But  I  shall  send  all  the  bees  up  to  kiss  you. 

Little  brown  brother,  good-by  ! 

. —  E.  Nesbit. 


181 


CLOVERS 

The  clovers  have  no  time  to  play: 
Tliev  feed  the  cows  and  make  the  hay, 

And  trim  the  lawns  and  help  the  bees, 
Until  the  sun  sinks  through  the  trees. 

And  then  they  lav  aside  their  cares, 
And  fold  their  hands  to  say  their  i)rayers, 

And  drop  their  tired  little  heads, 
And  go  to  sleep  in  clover  beds. 

Then  when  the  day  dawns  clear  and  blue 
They  wake  and  wash  their  hands  in  dew ; 

And  as  the  sun  climbs  up  the  sky 
They  hold  them  up  and  let  them  dry ; 

And  then  to  work  the  whole  long  day : 
For  clovers  have  no  time  to  play. 

—  Helexa  Lekming  Jelliffe. 

Copyriyftt,  1903,  The  Outlook  Company. 


182 


WHO   TOLD   THE   NEWS? 

Oh,  the  sunshine  told  the  bluebird, 

And  the  bluebii'd  told  the  brook, 
Tliat  the  dandeliiais  Avere  peeping 

From  the  a\  oodland's  sheltered  nook ; 
So  tlie  brook  was  blithe  and  happy, 

And  it  babbled  all  the  way, 
As  it  ran  to  tell  the  river 

Of  the  coming  of  the  May. 

Tlien  the  river  told  the  meadow, 

And  the  meadow  told  the  bee, 
That  the  tender  buds  were  swelling 

On  the  old  horse-chestnut  tree ; 
And  the  bee  shook  off  its  torpor. 

And  it  spread  each  gauzy  wing, 
As  it  flew  to  tell  the  flowers 

Of  the  coming  of  the  spring. 


.Jii;'i,;;':<^it^X:- 


^f^P^^^' 


183 


AIR 


squeeze  crevice  surrounds  gust 

motion  notliing         furniture  weigh 

We  say  that  a  room  with  no  furniture  in 
it  is  emi)ty.  But  this  is  not  exactly  true. 
There  is  one  thing  that  the  room  is  full  of  to 
its  very  to]).  It  is  something  that  you  can 
not  see.  But  it  is  as  real  a  thing  as  the 
furniture.     This  thing  is  air. 

If  vou  take  all  of  vour  books  out  of  the 
box  in  which  you  keej^  them,  you  say  there 
is  nothins;  left  in  it.  But  the  box  is  full  ot 
air.  When  you  shut  it  up  and  put  it  away, 
you  put  away  a  box  full  of  air.  When  the 
■books  Avere  in  it,  it  was  full  of  books  and  air 
together.     Now  it  is  full  of  air  alone. 

The  air  is  everywhere.  It  is  alwavs  ready 
to  go  where  there  is  a  place  for  it.  Every 
crack  and  crevice  is  tilled  with  it. 

You  see  a  little  boy  playing  with  a  ball. 
What  is  it  that  he  is  throwing  against  the 
wall  ?     It  is  a  rubber  ball,  vou  sav.     But  is 


184 

this  all  ?  Is  there  not  something  else  besides 
the  rubber? 

Suppose  that  you  prick  a  hole  in  the  ball 
and  squeeze  it.  It  is  now  good  for  nothing. 
But  the  rubber  is  all  there.  AVliy  is  the  ball 
good  for  nothing? 

It  is  because  the  air  which  filled  the  ball 
and  made  it  round  has  escaped.  The  ball  is 
of  no  use  unless  you  can  keep  it  full  of  air. 

Perhaps  you  think  that  air  does  not  Aveigh 
anything.  But  it  does  weigh  something, 
though  very  little,  and  its  weight  is  well 
known. 

You  can  not  see  air,  but  von  can  sometimes 
feel  it.  You  can  not  feel  it  while  it  is  still  if 
you  are  still  at  the  same  time.  You  can  feel 
it  only  when  it  is  in  motion.  When  the  wind 
blows  upon  you,  it  is  air  in  motion  that  you 
feel. 

When  YOU  fan  yourself,  the  air  strikes  upon 
your  face,  and  you  feel  it.  When  there  is 
a  gust  of  wind,  the  air  comes  against  you 
just  as  a   wa\e  of   water  does. 

Sometimes   we    say  the   wind    blows    yery 


185 

hai-d  or  very  strong.  This  is  when  the  air 
moves  very  fast.  When  there  is  only  a  gentle 
breeze,  the  air  is  moving  very  slowly. 

When  the  air  moves  very  fast,  it  sometimes 
does  a  great  deal  of  harm.  It  roots  up  trees 
and  blows  down  houses. 

The  air  is  clear,  like  ghiss.  Tliat  is,  it  lets 
you  see  throu2;h  it.  But  when  you  look  ui) 
through  the  air,  vou  see  that  it  is  of  a,  blue 
color.  You  call  the  blue  air  the  sky.  The 
sky  is  the  blue  air  that  suri'ounds  the  earth. 

WoKTHIXUTOX    HuoKEK. 

THE    UNSEEN    CHANT 
I. 


giant 

perish 

whistling 

whirls 

mighty 

stolen 

meddles 

voice 

tosses 

racket 

tumbling 

prank 

There  is  a  mighty  giant  in  the  world,  who 
is  as  old  as  the  earth  itself.  You  have  often 
heai'd  his  voice  and  felt  his  touch,  but  you 
have  never  seen  his  face. 


180 

AVlieii  lie  is  angry,  all  men  fear,  and  all  the 
beasts  of  the  field  seek  their  hiding  places. 

As  he  rages  and  whirls  along  his  way,  he 
tosses  honses  into  the  air  as  easily  as  a  hoy 
tosses  a  ball.     He  throws  down  great  trees  or 


])ulls  them  np  by  the  roots  as  he  crashes 
through  the  forest. 

Sometimes  he  flies  out  over  the  sea  and 
chases  the  ships.  He  rolls  great  waves  over 
their  decks  and  drives  the  ships  against  the 
rocks  to  perish. 

But  he  plays  many  a  queer  i)rank  even  in 


187 

the  midst  of  his  aiiirer.  One  day  he  lifted  a 
schoolhoiise,  turned  it  around  in  the  air, 
and  set  it  down  with  the  back  of  tlie  house 
just  where  the  front  had  been. 

Onee  Avhen  lie  was  tumbling  down  houses 
with  a  great  racket,  he  found  a  baby  in  a 
eradle.    Catching  it  up,  he  was  off  like  a  hash. 

Where  had  he  taken  the  baby?  Would  it 
eyer  be  found  aliye'?  "Neyer,"  the  people  said. 
But  just  then  a  cry  was  heard,  and  there  was 
the  little  child  safe  in  the  branches  of  a  tree ! 

This  giant  meddles  with  eyerything  within 
his  reach.  He  knocks  the  apples  off  the 
trees  before  they  are  rit)e.  He  tears  the 
yines  from  the  house,  and  picks  the  flowers 
from  their  stalks. 

He  is  not  always  honest,  for  on  washing 
days  he  often  tries  to  steal  the  clothes  from 
the  line.  He  takes  things  which  boys  and 
girls  leaye  in  the  yard,  or  on  the  doorstep. 

Then  the  old  giant  goes  whistling  on  his 
way  to  hide  his  stolen  goods.  Sometimes  he 
throws  them  under  the  bushes,  and  some- 
times he  tosses  them  into  the  water. 


188 


II. 


l)ngle 

unseen 

neither 

flute 

iinisic 

chimney 

thirsty 

1./ 

whence 

cattle 

saddest 

keyhole 

grinds 

Tlie  unseen  giant  is  often  kind  and  gentle. 
In  the  long,  hot  summer  time  he  softly  fans 


sick    children,    and    helps    them    to    become 
strong  and  well  again. 

When    he  wishes,  he   can    be    one    of    the 
irreatest  workers  in   the    workl.      Sometimes 


189 

he  flies  from  town  to  town  sweeping  the 
streets.  He  draws  water  for  thirsty  cattle, 
and  he  orinds  wheat  and  corn  for  anv  miller 
that  asks  his  help. 

Up  and  down  the  rivers,  and  over  the  sea, 
he  works  by  day  and  by  night,  carrying  peo- 
ple where  they  wish  to  go.  Had  it  not  been 
for  him,  neither  Colnmbus  nor  the  Pilgrims 
conld  have  reached  the  shores  of  America. 

He  likes  to  play  with  boys  and  girls. 
Sometimes  he  is  a  little  rongh.  But  when 
there  are  kites  to  flv  or  boats  to  sail,  he  is 
the  best  playfellow  that  can  be  found. 

The  strong;  old  p:iant  is  very  fond  of  music, 
too.  He  loves  to  play  on  the  horn,  the  bugle, 
and  the  flute.  Sometimes  you  hear  him 
whistling  in  the  keyhole  and  singing  in  the 
chimney.  Often  he  flies  to  the  pine  forests, 
where  he  makes  the  sweetest,  saddest  music 
you  have  ever  heard. 

Evervthino;  you  have  heard  about  this  won- 
derful  giant  is  true.  And  when  you  think 
of  his  name,  you  will  remember  manv  other 
things  that  he  can  do. 


11»0 


WHAT    ROBIN    TOLD 

HoAV  do  the  robins  build  their  nest? 

Kobin  Redbreast  told  me. 
First  a  wisp  of  amber  hay 
In  a  pretty  round  they  lay ; 
Then  some  shreds  of  downy  floss, 
Feathers  too,  and  bits  of  moss, 
Woven  with  a  sweet,  sweet  song. 
This  way,  that  way,  and  across : 

That's  what  Robin  told  me. 

Where  do  the  robins  hide  their  nest? 

Robin  Redbreast  told  me. 
Up  among  the  leaves  so  deep, 
AYliere  the  sunbeams  rarely  creep. 
Long  before  the  winds  are  cold, 
Long  before  the  leaves  are  gold. 
Bright-eyed  stars  will  peep  and  see 
Baby  robins  one,  two,  three: 

That's  what  Robin  told  me. 

—  George  Cooper. 


191 


Tin:    lUPvD'S   EDUCATION 


owlets 

liunoTY 

protect 


training 

nobody 

quietly 


educated 

i'as])l)eiTies 

woodpecker 


tojiyrigut.,  rjnii,  hv  A.  K.  Dugmore. 


"worms 

slii)ped 

lintter 


The  young  bird  needs  to  be  educated  just 
as  a  child  needs  to  be,  though  not  exactly 
in  the  same  way. 

After  the  young  bird  can  fly,  he  needs  to 
be  taught  to  find  his  own  food,  and  also 
A\here  to  sleep. 

He  needs  to  know  the  ditferent  calls  and 
cries  of  his  family,  and  what  they  all  mean, 
lie  has  to  learn  to  tiy,  and  he  must  learn  to 


Ilt2 

sing.  Tlien  lie  nnist  learn  what  to  be  afraid 
of,  and  liow  to  })rotect  himself  from  his  ene- 
mies. No  doubt  there  are  many  lessons  for 
him  to  learn  that  we  do  not  know  about. 

If  you  watch  little  birds  just  out  of  the 
nest,  you  may  see  them  being  taught  how  to 
find  their  food. 

The  robin  mother  takes  her  little  one  to 
the  ground  and  shows  him  where  the  worms 
live,  and  how  to  get  them.  The  owl  mother 
finds  a  mouse  creeping  about  in  the  grass. 
She  teaches  the  owlets  how  to  pounce  upon 
it  by  doing  it  herself  before  them. 

The  old  swallow  takes  her  youns:  ones  into 
the  air  and  shows  them  how  to  catch  little 
flies  on  the  wins;. 

If  you  watch  long  enough,  you  may  see 
the  old  bird,  who  is  training  a  young  one, 
fly  away.  She  may  leave  the  young  one 
alone  on  a  tree  or  on  the  oround  and  be 
gone  a  long  time. 

Before  many  minutes  the  little  one  will 
beo'in  to  call  for  food.  But  by  and  by,  if  no- 
body  comes  to  feed  him,  he  will  look,  around 


193 


for  something  to  eat.  Thus  he  will  get  his 
lirst  lesson  in  finding  food  for  himself. 

Once  I  saw  a  woodpecker  bring  his  little 
one  to  a  fence  close  by  some  raspberry 
bushes.  He  fed  the  young  bird  two  oi-  three 
raspberries,  and  then  (juietly  slip})ed  away. 

When  the  young  bird  began  to  feel  hungry, 
he  cried  out ;  but  nobody  came.  Then  he 
looked  over  at  the  raspberries  and  tried  to 
reach  one.  After  trvins:  three  or  four  times 
he  got  one.     Then  how  proud  he  was ! 

The  father  staved  aw^ay  an  hour  or  more. 
Before  he  came  back  that  young  woodpecker 
had  learned  to  help  himself  very  well.  But 
the  minute  his  father  came,  he  began  to  flutter 
his  wings  and  beg  to  be  fed. 


n. 


watcher 

hopped 

scatter 

perch 

knocked 

alight 

naughty 

bathe 

suppose 

coaxing 

fluttered 

plunge 

It  is  very  easy  to  see   the  birds  teaching 
their  little   ones  to  fly.     You  will  find  the 


1 :; — :5k 


194 


young  birds  sitting  (iiiietly  on  fences  or  trees. 
All  at  once  the  i)arents  begin  to  tly  around, 
with    strange,    loud   calls.     In   a  minute   the 
little  birds  will  tly  out  and  join  them. 
Around  and  around  they  all  go  till  their 

little  wings  are 
tired,  and  then  they 
come  down  and 
alight  again. 

Once    I    saw    a 

young     crow    who 

did    not   liy   when 

his  parents  called. 

All  the  others  flew 

around  many  times. 

The        mother's 

sharp  eyes  saw  her 

naughty   son.      She    flew    right  at  him,  and 

knocked  hiui  ofl^  his  perch.     The  next  time 

she  called,  he  flew  with  the  rest. 

An  old  robin  wanted  to  teach  her  young 
one  to  bathe.  She  brought  him  to  a  dish  of 
water  kept  for  their  use  by  some  people  who 
were  fond  of  birds. 


I'Jo 

The  little  one  stood  on  the  edoe  and 
watched  his  mother  go  in  and  splash  and 
scatter  the  water.  He  tluttered  his  wings 
and  was  eager  to  try  it  for  himself,  bnt 
seemed  afraid  to  plnnge  in. 

At  last  the  mother  flew  awav  and  left  him 
standing  there.  In  a  moment  she  came  back 
with  a  worm  in  her  month.  The  young  robin 
was  hunorv,  as  vonno:  birds  always  are. 
When  he  saw  the  worm,  he  began  to  flutter 
his  wings  and  cry  for  it. 

But  the  mother  jumped  into  the  middle  of 
the  water  dish  and  stood  there,  holdino;  the 
worm  in  his  sight.  The  little  bird  Avanted 
the  Avorm  so  much  that  he  seemed  to  forget 
his  fear  and  hopped  in  beside  his  mother. 

She  fed  him,  and  then  began  to  splash 
about.  The  little  fellow  stayed  in  the  water 
and  took  a  aood  bath. 

A  careful  watcher  can  see  the  birds  teach 
many  interesting  things  to  their  young  ones. 
But  one  must  be  quiet  and  patient,  and  not 
frighten  the  birds. 

—  Olive  Thoknk    Miller. 


190 


HOW    BIRDS    LEARN   TO    SING 

How  do  birds  first  learn  to  sing  ? 
From  the  whistling  wind  so  tleet, 
From  the  waving  of  the  wheat, 
From  the  rustling  of  the  leaves, 
From  the  raindrop  on  the  eaves, 
From  the  children's  laughter  sweet, 
From  the  plash  when  brooklets  meet. 

Little  birds  begin  their  trill 
As  they  gayly  float  at  will 
In  the  gladness  of  the  sky, 
When  the  clouds  are  white  and  high ; 
In  the  beauty  of  the  day 
Speeding  on  their  sunny  way, 
Liglit  of  heart  and  fleet  of  wing  — 
That's  how  birds  first  learn  to  sing. 

—  Mary  Mapes  Dodge. 


197 


THE   GREATEST   OF    BEASTS 

grasp  Hindu  smelling  urge 

straiglit  feeling         earrings  trunk 

roamed  jungle  i)roeessions         tusks 

Nandi,  the  Great  One,  Avas  the  baby's 
nurse.  He  was  one  of  the  strongest  nurses 
that  ever  took  care  of  a  baby  anywhere  on 
this  round  earth. 

In  the  iirst  place  Xandi  was  large,  as  you 
have  already  guessed.  He  was  twice  as  high 
as  the  babv's  father,  and  he  was  almost  as 
tall  as  the  roof  of  the  tiny  hut  where  the 
baby  lived. 

Nandi  had  a  long  nose.  It  was  a  verv 
long  nose  indeed.  Perhaps  you  will  not 
believe  it,  but  his  nose  was  as  long  as  you 
are  tall,  my  little  reader. 

And  it  was  a  wonderful  nose.  It  was 
always  moving,  always  feeling,  always  smell- 
ing. With  his  nose  Nandi  could  I'ock  the 
cradle,  and  brush  awav  the  flies  that  buzzed 
about  the  baby's  face.     With  it  he  could  pick 


198 

up    the    smallest   toys   from   the    ground,   or 
open  the  door  of  the  hut. 

But  you,  my  little  readers,  have  another 
name  for  this  wonderful,  long  nose.  You  call 
it  a  trunk. 

Nandi  had  two  long,  sharp  teeth.  They 
were  longer  than  a  man's  arm,  and  they  were 
very  strong.  With  them  he  could  lift  heavy 
logs  and  move  great  stones. 

But  you  have  another  name  for  these  long, 
strong  teeth.  You  call  them  tusks.  And 
you  have  already  guessed  that  the  baby's 
nurse  was  an  elephant. 

The  baby  was  a  little  Hindu  boy,  and  he 
lived  on  the  other  side  of  the  world.  He  had 
a  brown  skin,  black  eyes,  and  black  hair. 

The  Hindu  baby  had  played  with  great 
Nandi's  trunk  ever  since  he  could  grasp  any- 
thinp:  with  his  tinv  hands.  He  had  crawled 
around  the  elephant's  feet  and  slept  on  the 
ground  in  the  shadow  of  the  great  beast. 
For,  in  the  warm  country  of  India,  where  the 
baby  lived,  it  is  always  summer. 

One   morning,  the  baby's   father   perched 


199 


himself  upon  the  elepli ant's  head  and  rode 
away  from  his  home.  The  chikl  screamed 
with  grief  for  his  companion. 

"Be  still,  love  of  mv  life,"  said  the  mother. 
"  Thv  father  has  need  of  Nandi.  He  can  no 
longer  be  idle.  There  is  harder  work  for  him 
to  do  than  to  care  for  thee,  0  small  one." 


The  elephant's  work  was  to  pile  heavy 
timbers  in  the  lumber  yard,  and  to  help 
unload  the  ships.  Often  he  worked  alone, 
for  he  needed  no  driver  to  urge  him  to  his 


200 


task.         His     piles    of    wood    were    always 
straight,  and  his  worl?:  always  well  done. 

Once  Nandi  belonged  to  a  Hindn  prince 
and  walked  in  long  processions  through  the 
streets  of  cities.  Then  he  wore  gold  rings  in 
his  ears  and  silver  rings  around 
his  tusks.  Ked  cloth,  trimmed 
with  gold,  covered  his  great  ^  JJ 
sides  and  hung  almost  to 
his  feet.  And  he  proudly 
bore  upon  his  back  the 
officers    of    the    prince. 

And  longer  ago  than 
that,  Avhen  he  was 
young,    he    had 
lived  in  the  jungle. 
Ah  !  those  were  happy 
days!     Then,  w4th  other 
elephants,    he    roamed    tlie    forest,    ate    the 
tender  branches,  and  swam  the  rivers. 

But  one  day  he  was  driven  by  the  hunters 
through  the  forest  and  across  the  hills.  Sud- 
denly he  found  himself  shut  in  on  every  side 
by  a  strong,  high  fence.     Then  he  was  caught 


201 

and  cluiined  to  a  tame  elepliant  who  after- 
wards taiio'lit  him  how  to  work. 

Nandi  often  took  part  in  great  hunts  for 
wikl  beasts,  and  he  bore  the  marks  of  a  fierce 
tiger's  claws  upon  his  side.  He  helped  to 
catch  oth(?r  elephants  in  the  dark  forest,  and 
taught  great  beasts  like  himself  to  do  many 
kinds  of  work. 

Nandi  did  not  care  to  be  free.  Truly,  if 
he  had  wished  to  2:0  back  to  the  iunole  what 
could  hinder?  For  he  worked  without  chain 
or  harness. 

He  was  well  cared  for.  He  loved  the 
evening  bath  in  the  river  and  the  evening 
meal  of  fresh  leaves.  He  loved  his  master, 
who  was  always  kind. 

But  best  of  all  he  loved  the  brown  baby 
who  fed  him  with  bananas,  and  alwavs  wel- 
corned  his  return  with  childish  glee.  •  How 
old  Xandi's  briaht  eves  would  sijarkle  when 
his  little  friend  came  near. 

And  when  the  baby  could  run  to  meet  him, 
and  sit  u])on  his  great  strong  neck,  there  was 
no  prouder  elephant  in  all  the  land  of  India. 


202 


THE   STORY   OF   GIANT   SUN 

globe  cannon  planets  wax 

finish  million  minute  travel 

"  Sister,  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  a  story 
about  the  sun,"  said  Harrv.  "Where  does 
it  go  at  night,  and  where  does  it  come  from 
in  the  morning  ?  " 

"  We  live  on  a  big  round  globe  called  the 
earth,"  replied  his  sister,  "and  we  travel 
around  the  sun  once  everv  year.  The  sun 
is  like  a  great  lamp  in  the  sky.  When  we 
face  the  lamp,  we  see  the  light,  and  when 
we  turn  awav  from  it,  we  are  in  darkness. 

"  As  the  earth  travels  around  the  sun,  it 
whirls  like  a  huge  top.  When  tlie  side  of 
the  earth  on  which  we  live  is  turned  toward 
the  sun,  we  have  day.  But  when  the  earth 
turns  around  so  that  the  sun  can  not  shine 
on  us,  we  have  night. 

"  If  the  sun  stopped  shining,  there  would 
be  no  daylight,  and  soon  there  would  be  no 
heat  on  the  earth. 


203 

^'  The  sun  is  verv,  very  hot.  If  it  shoukl 
come  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  earth,  every 
plant  and  animal  in  the  world  would  die. 
The  rivers  and  the  seas  would  dry  up,  and 
at  last  the  great  earth  would  melt  like  a  ball 
of  wax." 

"  How  far  away  is  the  sun?  "  asked  Harry. 

"  It  is  so  far  away  that  it  would  take  more 
than  a  hundred  years  to  travel  the  distance 
bv  the  fastest  railroad  train." 

"  Is  it  more  than  a  thousand  miles?  " 

"Yes,  it  is  nu)re  than  a  million  miles." 

"  Suppose  there  were  a  road  all  the  way  to 
the  sun.  How  long  would  it  take  me  to  walk 
there?  " 

"Let  me  see,"  said  sister  Mary,  taking  out 
her  notebook.  "  If  you  should  walk  four  miles 
an  hour  and  ten  hours  a  dav,  vou  would  be 
more  than  six  thousand  vears  old  before  you 
could  finish  your  journey." 

"  But  suppose,"  asked  Harry,  his  eyes 
bright  with  Avonder,  "  some  one  lired  a  big 
cannon  at  the  sun.  How  long  would  it  take 
the  cannon  ball  to  get  there?  " 


204 

Mary  looked  in  lier  notebook  again.  "If 
a  cannon  ball  could  be  shot  to  the  sun.  it 
would  take  nine  years  to  reach  it.  Now  what 
else  do  you  want  to  know  about  the  sun, 
little  brother?" 

"  1  shouhl  like  to  know  how  large  it  is. 
Does  any  one  know?  Is  it  as  lai'ge  as  the 
earth?" 

"  Yery  much  larger,"  replied  Mary.  "It 
is  so  large  that  if  it  were  cut  uj)  into  a  million 
parts,  each  one  of  the  parts  would  be  larger 
than  the  earth. 

•  "  If  a  train  should  run  at  the  rate  of  a 
mile  a  minute,  it  would  take  five  vears  for  it 
to  go  around  the  sun.  A  train  going  at  the 
same  rate  could  travel  the  distance  around 
the  earth  in  less  than  three  weeks." 

"Then  the  sun  must  be  verv  larsie,"  said 
Harry.  "  It  is  larirer  than  anvthino:  I  ever 
heard  about.     Let  us  call  it  Giant  Sun." 

"  There  are  stars  far  away  in  the  sky  that 
are  larger  than  the  sun,"  said  his  sister. 
"  And  there  are  i)lanets  like  our  earth  which 
are  near  the  sun.     But  I  will  tell  vou  about 


205 

them   some  other   day.     Now  do   not   forget 
what  I  have  tohl  you  about  Giant  Sun." 

"Forget!  How  eouhl  1,  sister?  It  is 
better  than  any  fairy  tale  I  have  ever  heard. 
Whv,  you  liave  tohl  me  enough  about  Giant 
Sun  to  Iveep  me  thinking  all  day." 

From  "Stories  of  Star  land."'     Copyright,  ISOS. 
By  permis.non  of  the  publishers,  Silver,  Rurdett  &  Co, 


^ 


SUMMER   SUN 

Great  is  the  sun,  and  wide  he  goes, 

Tlirough  euipty  heavens  without  repose; 

And  in  the  blue  and  glowing  days 

More  thick  than  rain  he  showers  his  rays. 

Though  closer  still  the  blinds  we  pull 

To  keep  the  shady,  parlor  cool, 
Yet  he  will  tind  a  chink  or  two 

To  slip  his  golden  lingers  through. 


206 

The  dusty  attic,  spider  clad, 

He  through  the  keyhole  maketh  glad ; 
And  through  the  broken  edge  of  tiles 

Into  the  laddered  hayloft  smiles. 

Meantime  his  golden  face  around 
He  bares  to  all  the  garden  ground, 

And  sheds  a  warm  and  glittering  look 
Among  the  ivy's  inmost  nook. 

Above  the  hills,  along  the  blue, 

Round  the  bright  air  with  footing  true, 

To  please  the  child,  to  paint  the  rose. 
The  gardener  of  the  world,  he  goes. 

—  Egbert  Louis  Stevenson. 

THE   STORY    OF   PHAETHON 

Phaethon        welcome        chariot  dawn 

advice  promise         columns  tiery 

flashed  dwelling        lightning        hurled 

You  have  read  the  true  storv  of  the  2;reat 
sun.  Now  vou  shall  hear  a  strange  old  tale 
told  of  Giant  Sun,  in  the  days  of  long  ago. 

Do  you  remember  the  beautiful  picture  of 


•■0 

X 

> 

H 
X 

o 
z 

> 

z 

D 

X 

m 

CO 

G 
O 

a: 

> 

o 


208 

Aurora,  and  the  story  of  Apollo,  the  driver  of 
the  sun  car?  Here  is  another  picture  of  the 
sun  chariot,  in  its  flight  across  the  heavens. 

Once  upon  a  time  Phaethon,  the  son  of 
Apollo,  said  to  his  mother,  "I  go  to-day  to 
my  father's  palace,"  and  he  started  for  the 
land  of  the  sunrise. 

For  days  and  for  nights  he  traveled  until 
he  came  to  a  high  mountain.  On  its  top 
was  the  shining  palace  of  the  sun.  It  had 
golden  columns  and  silver  doors.  On  its 
wall  were  pictures  of  the  wonders  of  the 
earth  and  of  the  sea. 

But  Phaethon  hurried  by  these  beautiful 
sights.  He  entered  the  great  hall  and  found 
the  Sun  god  just  ready  to  drive  his  horses 
through  the  clouds  of  dawn. 

"  Welcome,  welcome,  my  son  !  "  said  Apollo. 
"  I  have  waited  long  for  thy  coming.  What 
is  thy  wish?  Tell  me,  and  thy  wish  shall 
be  granted  thee." 

"Oh,  mv  father,"  said  Phaethon,  "let  me 
drive  the  chariot  of  the  sun  for  one  day 
across  the  sky." 


209 

"  No  hand  but  mine  can  hold  these  fiery 
horses,'^  said  Apollo.  ''  Change  thy  wish,  fool- 
ish boy.     You  ask  for  death,  not  for  honor." 

"  My  father  neyer  breaks  his  promise,"  said 
Phaethon.      "  I  will  not  change  my  wish." 

"Then  follow  my  adyice,"  said  Apollo. 
"  Hold  fast  the  reins.  Use  not  the  whi}), 
and  driye  neither  too  high  lest  the  earth 
freeze,  nor  too  low  lest  it  burn." 

Phaethon  sprang  into  the  sun  car  and 
grasped  the  lines.  The  horses  darted  across 
tlie  sky.  Lower  and  lower  they  plunged. 
The  heat  of  the  shining  sun  car  dried  the 
lakes  and  the  riyers,  and  burned  eyery  green 
thing  upon  the  land. 

Tlie  people  cried  for  rain,  and  the  great 
ruler  of  earth  and  air  heard  their  cries,  and 
looked  down  from  his  dNyelling  place.  He 
flashed  his  liahtninsis  at  tlie  mad  driyer,  and 
hurled  him  from  his  seat. 

Then  the  great  ruler  led  the  horses  and  the 
chariot  to  their  old  track  across  the  sky. 
But  Phaethon  neyer  rose  from  the  cold  waters 
of  the  riyer  into  which  he  had  fallen. 

14 — Hi; 


210 


A   SUNFLOWER   STORY 

Clytie 

« 

coral              blazing 

Greeiv 

maiden 

petals            swiftest 

lulled 

Clytie  was  a  sea  maiden,  so  the  old  Greek 
stories  tell  iis.  She  lived  at  the  bottom  of 
the  ocean.  The  white  sea  sand  was  her  car- 
])et,  a  beautiful  shell  was  her  bed,  and  the 
seaweed  was  her  pillow. 

One  morning  Clytie  arose,  ]/Ut  on  her  moss- 
green  dress,  and  went  to  ride  in  her  seashell 
boat.  A  pair  of  fishes  drew  her  over  the 
beautiful  sea  bottom.  They  swam  around 
rocks  with  sharp,  ragged  edges,  and  they 
passed  through  forests  of  sea  weed  and  coral. 

Indeed,  so  long  and  pleasant  was  the  ride 
that  Clytie  fell  asleep,  and  she  did  not  awaken 
until  a  big  wave  rolled  her  boat  upon  the 
shore  of  a  green  island. 

Then  the  little  maiden  opened  her  brown 
eyes  very  wide,  for  she  had  never  before  seen 
the  land.  There  was  green  grass  at  her  feet, 
and  such  flowers  as  never  grew  in  her  garden 
at  the  bottom  of  the  deep  sea. 


211 

In  the  trees  were  birds  whose  songs  sounded 
sweeter  than  the  music  of  the  waves  that 
had  so  often  lulled  her  to  sleep. 

Across  the  blue  sky  rode  the  Sun  king  in  a 
chariot  which  shone  like  blazing  gold. 

CI}  tie  saw  that  all  living  things  looked  up 
and  smiled  Avhen  the  golden  chariot  rolled 
above  the  earth. 

"  Oh,  that  I  were  a  land  child  !  "  she  said ; 
"  then  I  too  might  gaze  upon  the  Sun  king 
the  whole  day  long." 

Dav  after  dav  the  sea  maiden  came  to  the 
island.  There  she  stood  hour  after  liour 
watchino;  the  briaht  Sun  kino-  until  his  uolden 
chariot  sank  into  the  western  sea. 

But  one  evenino;  Clvtie  found  that  she  couhl 
not  move.  Behold,  she  was  no  longer  a  maid 
of  the  sea.  Her  dress  was  but  a  slender  green 
stalk  with  dark  green  leaves. 

Her  yellow  hair  had  become  a  circle  of 
golden  petals.  From  their  midst  looked  out 
the  brown  eyes  of  Clytie,  no  longer  a  sea 
maiden,  but  a  beautiful  sunflower  with  its 
face  turned  toward  the  sun. 


WYNKEN,   BLYNKEN,  AND   NOD 

Wynken,  Blynkeii,  and  Nod  one  night 

Sailed  off  in  a  wooden  shoe  — 
Sailed  on  a  river  of  crystal  light 

Into  a  sea  of  dew. 
"Where  are  you  going,  and  what  do  you  wish?" 

The  old  moon  asked  the  three. 
"  We  have  come  to  fish  for  the  herring  fish 

That  live  in  this  beautiful  sea ; 

Nets  of  silver  and  gold  have  we/' 
Said  Wynken,  Blynken,  and  Nod. 

The  old  moon  laughed  and  sang  a  song, 

As  they  rocked  in  the  wooden  shoe ; 
And  the  wind  that  sped  them  all  night  long  ' 

Ruffled  the  waves  of  dew ; 
The  little  stars  wxre  the  herring  fish 

That  lived  in  that  beautiful  sea. 
"  Now  cast  your  nets  wherever  you  wish, 

But  never  afraid  are  we  !  " 

So  cried  the  stars  to  the  fishermen  three, 
Wynken,  Blynken,  and  Nod. 


213 

All  night  long  their  nets  thfey  threw 

To  the  stars  in  the  twinkling  foam, 
Then  down  from  tlie  skv  came  the  wooden  shoe, 

Brino'ins;  the  tishermen  home : 
'Twas  all  so  i)rettv  a  sail,  it  seemed 

As  if  it  could  not  be  ; 
And  some  folks  thought  'twas  a  dream  they'd 
dreamed 

Of  sailing  that  beautiful  sea; 

But   1  shall  name  you  the  hshermen  three  : 
Wvnken,  Blvnken,  and  Xod. 

Wvnken  and  Blvnken  ai*e  two  little  eves, 

And  Xod  is  a  little  head, 
And  the  wooden  shoe  that  sailed  the  skies 

Is  a  wee  one's  trundle-bed ; 
So  shut  your  eyes  while  mother  sings 

Of  the  wonderful  sights  that  be. 
And  you  shall  see  the  beautiful  things 

As  you  rock  in  the  misty  sea 

Where  the  old  shoe  rocked  the  tishermen 
three,  — 
Wynken.  Blynken,  and  Nod.  — Eugene'  Field. 

From  "  n'it/i  Trumpet  oml  Drum:'     Copyright,  1802,  by  Mary  French  Field. 
Published  by  Charles  Scribner\s  Sons. 


214 


A    LITTLE   GIRL   WHO    LOVED  ANIMALS 


chubby 

amused 

wandered 

proper 

Bonheur 

eldest 

firelight 

passers 

France 

sewing 

andscape 

auburn 

A  LITTLE  four-year-old  girl  stood  in  her 
room  making  pictures  upon  the  wliite  walls. 
On  every  side  could  be  seen  drawings  of 
horses  and  dogs,  cows,  rabbits,  and  sheep. 
The  walls  were  covered  with  pictures  as  high 
as  the  chubbv  hand  could  reach. 

In  the  doorway  stood  the  father,  watching 
his  little  dauditer.  So  wonderful  Ave  re  her 
drawings  for  a  little  child  that  the  neighbors 
often  came  into  the  tinv  room  to  look  at  the 
pictures  on  the  walls. 

"  My  little  Rosa  will  be  an  artist  some 
day,"  said  the  father,  "but  she  can  never  be 
a  great  artist  because  she  is  a  girl.  How  I 
wish  she  were  a  boy !  " 

In  those  days  it  was  not  thought  proper  for 
a  girl  to  do  anything  that  would  take  her 
aw^ay  from  home.     "  A  girl  should  stay  in  the 


215 


house,"  people  said.     "  She  should  spend  her 
time  in  sewing  and  in  helping  her  mother." 


Rosa  Bonheur. 


Rosa  Bonheur's  home  was  in  France.  She 
was  the  eldest  of  four  children.  Her  fatlier 
gave   lessons  in   drawing  and  made  pictures 


216 

for  books.  The  little  cottage  in  which  she 
was  born  was  in  a  beautiful  part  of  tlie 
country.  Here,  with  her  two  younger 
brothers  and  a  baby  sister,  she  lived  a 
happy  life. 

Rosa  loved  animals,  and  she  had  numy 
pets.  Dogs  that  had  no  home  came  to  her, 
and  they  were  never  turned  away.  She 
fed  the  wild  rabbits  and  tamed  the  squirrels. 
If  a  stray  liorse  wandered  by,  it  was  given 
food  and  water,  and  cared  for  until  its  owner 
coukl  be  found. 

The  child  artist  drew  pictures  of  all  these 
animals.  She  studied  tliem  as  they  ran  or 
walked  or  lay  down  to  rest. 

When  her  little  brothers  were  old  enough 
to  run  about,  they  loved  to  follow  their  sister 
from  place  to  place.  Often  they  went  with 
her  to  the  roadside,  Avhere  she  made  pictures 
for  them  in  the  sand  with  a  pointed  stick. 

Sometimes  her  dogs  came  too  and  sat  for 
their  pictures.  The  passers-by  stopped  to  see 
the  rosy-cheeked  little  girl  drawing  animals 
and  landscapes  along  the  sandy  way. 


earnest 

relatives 

absence 

models 

galleries 

cherries 

modeled 

contented 

studio 

217 

In  the  long  winter  evenings  Rosa  amused 
herself  and  her  brothers  by  cutting  ])ictures 
of  animals  and  people  from  pieces  of  i)aper. 

A   LITTLE   GIRL   WHO    PAINTED   ANIMALS 

Paris 

bunch 

pencil 

But  this  free  and  happy  life  came  to  an 
end  all  too  soon.  When  Rosa  was  seven 
years  old,  the  family  moved  to  Paris,  where 
they  lived  in  small  rooms.  The  street  was 
crowded  with  houses,  and  there  was  no  vard 
for  the  children  to  play  in. 

How  Rosa  longed  for  her  old  home  and  for 
the  animals  she  loved.  Sometimes  she  ran 
across  the  street  to  pet  a  wooden  pig  which 
stood  just  outside  the  door  of  a  meat  sho]). 

About  this  time  a  great  sorrow  came  to 
the  little  Bonheur  children.  Their  l)eautiful 
mother  died,  and  then  they  were  all  sent 
away  from  home. 

Poor    little    Rosa!       She   did    not   like    to 


218 


study  or  sew,  and  she  was  very  unhappy  in 
the  girls'  school  to  which  she  was  sent. 
Her  only  pleasure  was  in  yisiting  her  father's 
studio.  Here,  if  she  could  have  a  i)encil,  or 
a  bit  of  clay,  she  was  always  contented. 

How  she  begged  to  leave  school  and  stay 
with  her  father !  Her  relatives  thought  this 
a  foolish  thing  for  her  to  do.  "What  would 
people  think,"  they  said,  "  to  see  a  girl  doing 
a  boy's  work? " 

One  day,  when  her  father  returned  to  the 
studio  after  a  short  absence,  he  found  that 
Rosa  had  painted  a  bunch  of  cherries.  He 
looked  at  her  picture  for  a  long  time,  and 
then  he  said,  "If  you  can  do  as  Avell  as  that, 
I  will  give  you  lessons." 

"  And  I  will  cut  off  mv  hair  and  wear  bov's 
clothes,"  said  Rosa.  "  Then  I  can  study  with 
you,  and  no  one  will  notice  me."  So  she 
dressed  like  a  boy  and  went  everywhere  with 
her  father. 

Lessons  in  drawing  and  painting  now 
began  in  earnest.  It  was  not  long  before 
she    could   help  her  father.      Soon  she  was 


219 

able  to  copy  pictures  in  the  famous  picture 
galleries  of  Paris. 

And  now  the  girl  who  did  not  like  to  study 
books,  and  who  hated  to  sew,  became  one 
of  the  hardest  of  workers.  She  painted  from 
early  morning  until  night  to  earn  money  for 
her  father  and  the  younger  children. 

At  last  the  Bonheur  family  were  able  to 
have  a  home  together  once  more.  In  a  quiet 
street  in  Paris,  up  six  flights  of  stairs,  they 
found  a  few  small  rooms. 

But  what  should  they  do  for  a  garden  and 
for  a  place  to  keep  their  animals?  It  was 
Rosa's  greatest  wish  to  learn  to  draw  and 
paint  animals  from  life,  and  she  needed  to 
study  living  models. 

The  windows  of  their  rooms  oj^ened  on  a 
broad,  flat  roof.  Here  Rosa  and  her  brother 
made  a  roof  garden  and  planted  flowers. 
Here  they  kept  singing  birds,  a  hen  and 
chickens,  and  a  pet  sheep. 

Every  morning  the  two  boys  carried  the 
sheep  downstairs,  and  led  it  to  the  pasture. 
In  the  evening  they  carried  it  up  the  long 


220 


tlights  of  stairs  to  the  studio.  It  was  drawn 
standing  and  lying  down,  eating  and  sleei)ing. 
It  was  painted  and  modeled  in  clay,  again 
and  again,  by  Rosa  and  her  brothers. 

A   GREAT    ARTIST 

I. 

sketch  obliged  prize  won 

death  nineteen  skirts  oxen 

Rosa  Bonheur  now  s])ent  all  her  time  in 
painting  animals.  She  took  long  trips  into 
the  country  to  find  animals  to  sketch.  There 
she  drew  flocks  of  sheep,  oxen  at  work,  and 
cows  standing  in  the  long  grass. 

Sometimes  she  went  into  pens  where  ani- 
mals were  kept,  both  in  the  country  and  in 
the  city  of  Paris.  Because  her  long  skirts 
were  in  the  way  of  her  work  she  often  dressed 
as  men  do. 

Her  pictures  were  shown  in  Paris  with  those 
of  great  artists.  When  she  was  only  nineteen 
years  old,  she  won  her  tirst  prize.  This  was  a 
s:reat  honor. 


221 


One  of  her  finest  pictures  is  called  "  Oxen 
Plowing."  It  was  finished  just  before  her 
father's  death.  He  Avas  greatly  interested  in 
this  picture.  AVhen  it  was  done,  he  was  proud 
and  happy  to  see  that  his  daughter  had  be- 
come a  oreat  artist. 


Paintin};  hv  l!(p>a  Bonheur. 


Oxen   Plowing. 


Rosa  Bonheur  spent  the  last  years  of  her 
life  in  a  home  of  her  own,  not  far  from  Paris. 
Xear  by  was  a  beautiful  forest,  and  in  a  park 
close  to  the  house  she  kept  a  number  of  wild 
animals. 

The  studio  in  which  the  artist  worked  was 
very  interesting.  Paintings  hung  on  the 
walls  and  stood  about  the  room.     Birds  sang 


222 

in  their  cages.  Dogs  and  other  pets  walked 
about  or  lay  on  the  skins  of  wild  animals 
w^hich  covered  the  tloor. 

To  this  home  came  many  poor  people,  whom 
the  great  artist  was  always  glad  to  help.  She 
was  kind  to  every  one,  and  even  the  animals 
loved  her. 

II. 

legion  Empress         stepladder      mistress 

stroking      New  York      museum         clinging 

A  large  lion  named  Xero  was  one  of  Rosa's 
pets,  and  he  often  lay  in  the  studio  while  she 
painted  her  pictures. 

Once,  wiien  she  was  leaving  home  for  a 
long  trip,  she  was  obliged  to  send  Nero  away. 
On  her  return  she  went  to  see  him  in  one  of 
the  parks  of  Paris.  She  found  him  in  a  cage, 
sick  and  blind. 

"Nero,  my  poor  Nero!"  she  exclaimed; 
"what  has  happened  to  you?" 

The  poor  beast  heard  her  voice.  He  crawled 
to  the  bars  of  the  cage,  where  he  could  feel  her 
hand  stroking  his  head.    So  great  was  the  love 


224 


he  showed  that  Rosa  had  him  taken  again  to 
her  home,  and  she  cared  for  him  as  long  as  he 
lived.  He  died  clinging  with  his  great  paws 
to  the  mistress  he  had  loved  so  well. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  most  wonderful  painting  is 
''The  Horse  Fair."  The  artist  spent  nearly 
two  years  in  drawing  horses  before  she  began 
this  great  work.  The  picture  is  so  large 
that  she  was  obliged  to  use  a  stepladder  to 
reach  some  parts  of  it. 

"  The  Horse  Fair  "  was  bought  by  an  Ameri- 
can, and  it  can  be  seen  in  the  Museum  of  Art 
in  New  York  city. 

When  the  French  people  wish  to  honor  an 
artist,  they  give  him  the  cross  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor.  The  Empress  had  often  seen  Rosa 
Bonheur  sketching  in  the  forest,  and  she 
tliought  her  the  greatest  of  animal  painters. 

One  morning  when  Rosa  Bonheur  was 
painting  in  her  studio,  the  Empress  came 
into  the  room  and  hung  a  beautiful  white 
cross  around  the  artist's  neck. 

No  woman  had  ever  before  worn  the  cross 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor. 


225 


WHEN    BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN   WAS   A   BOY 


tools 

public 

scholar 

boiler 

wicks 

printer 

grammar 

tallow 

molds 

candles 

promotet 

melted 

When  Beniamin  Franklin  was  a  boy  there 
Tvere  no  great  public  schools  as  there  are 
now.  But  Benjamin  learned  to  read  almost 
as  soon  as  he  could  talk,  and  he  Avas  always 
fond  of  books. 

His  nine  brothers  were  older  than  he,  and 
eyery  one  had  learned  a  trade.  Tliey  did  not 
care  so  much  for  books. 

"Benjamin  sliall  be  tlie  scholar  of  our 
family,"  said  his  mother. 

And  so,  when  lie  was  eio'ht  years  old,  he 
was  sent  to  a  grammar  school.  He  studied 
hard,  and  in  a  few  months  lie  was  promoted 
to  a  higher  class.  But  his  father  was  poor 
and  needed  his  help.  In  two  years  he  was 
obli2;ed  to  leaye  school. 

Benjamin  was  a  small  boy,  but  there  were 
many  things  that  he  could    do.     His    father 

m — :;:; 


226 

was  a  soa})  boiler,  and  candle  maker.  And 
80  when  the  boy  was  taken  from  school,  what 
kind  of  work  do  you  think  he  had  to  do  ? 

You  may  be  sure  that  Benjamin  was  kept 
busy.  He  cut  wicks  for  the  candles,  poured 
the  melted  tallow  into  the  candle  molds,  and 
sold  soap  to  his  father's  customers. 

Do  you  suppose  that  he  liked  to  do  this 
work  ? 

He  did  not  like  it  at  all.  And  when  he 
saw  the  ships  sailing  in  and  out  of  Boston 
Harbor,  he  lonQ:ed  to  be  a  sailor,  and  o;o  to 
strange,  far-away  lands,  where  candles  and 
soap  Avere  unknown. 

Benjamin's  father  saw  that  his  boy  did  not 
like  the  work  he  was  doing.  One  day  he 
said:  '*  Benjamin,  since  you  do  not  wish  to 
be  a  candle  maker,  what  trade  do  you  think 
YOU  would  like  to  learn?  " 

"I  would  like  to  be  a  sailor,"  said  the 
bov. 

"  I  do  not  Avish  you  to  be  a  sailor,"  said  his 
father.  '- 1  intend  that  you  shall  learn  some 
useful  trade  on  land;   and  I  know  that  you 


227 

will  do  best  the  kind  of  work  that  is  most 
pleasant  to  you." 

The  next  day  he  took  the  boy  to  walk  with 
him  among  the  workshops  of  Boston.  They 
saw  men  busy  at  all  kinds  of  work. 

Benjamin  was  delighted.  Long  afterwards, 
when  he  had  become  a  very  great  man,  he 
said,  "  It  has  ever  since  been  a  pleasure  to  me 
to  see  good  workmen  handle  their  tools." 

He  gave  up  the  thought  of  going  to  sea, 
and  decided  that  he  would  learn  any  trade 
his  father  would  choose  for  him. 

Soon  after  this,  Benjamin's  brother  James 
set  up  a  printing  press  in  Boston.  He  in- 
tended to  print  books  and  a  newspaper. 

"Benjamin  loves  books,"  said  his  father. 
"  He  shall  learn  to  be  a  printer." 

And  so,  when  he  was  twelve  years  old,  he 
was  sent  to  his  brother  to  learn  the  printer's 
trade.  He  was  to  have  his  board  and  cloth- 
ing, but  no  wages. 

Benjamin  never  attended  school  again,  but 
he  kept  on  studying.  At  that  time  there 
were  no  books  written  for  children  as  there 


228 

are  nowadays.  His  father's  hooks  were  not 
easy  to  understand.  We  should  think  them 
very  dull. 

But  before  he  was  twelve  years  old,  Ben- 
jamin had  carefully  read  the  most  of  them. 
All  the  money  that  came  into  his  hands  he 
laid  out  in  books. 

Often  he  would  borrow  a  book  in  the  eyen- 
ing,  and  then  sit  up  nearly  all  night  reading 
it  so  as  to  return  it  early  in  the  morning. 

He  spent  all  his  spare  time  in  studying 
and  reading  the  best  books  that  he  could 
get.  AVe  shall  lind  that  afterward  Benjamin 
Franklin  became  the  most  learned  man  in 
America. 


SOME   WISE   SAYINGS 

Lost  time  is  never  found  again. 

One  to-day  is  worth  two  to-morrows. 

God  helps  them  that  help  themselyes. 

Plow  deep  while  sluggards  sleep, 

And  you  shall  have  corn  to  sell  and  to  keep. 

—  Bexjamin  Franklix. 


229 


A    WEAVING   STORY 


Abner 

Silas 

Deborah 


glanced 
musket 
offered 


shuttle 

threaded 

possible 


1(^()1U 

roax 
stitch 


f-  T  was  a  si)i'ing  inorniug 
more  than  one  hundred 
years  ago.  A  young  man 
was  plowing  m  a  lield 
near  a  low  farmhouse. 
Four  men  with  guns  on 
their  shoulders  passed  along 
the  I'oad.^"  There  is  Abner  White,"  said 
one  of  them.  "  He  ousxht  to  join  the  army. 
Call  to  him." 

"Abner,  Abner,"  they  shouted. 
The  young  nnm  left  his  plow  and  ran  to 
the  fence. 

"  AVe  are  raising  a  com])any  to  join  Wash- 
ington's army,"  they  said.  "We  march 
to-morrow.     You  must  go  with  us,  Abner." 

Abner  walked  quickly  to  the  little  farm- 
house.    His  mother  was  standing  in  the  door. 


230 

"My  countiy  needs  me,  mother,"  lie  said. 
"What  shall  I  do?" 

"  If  you  feel  it  is  your  duty  to  fight  for 
your  country,  Abner,  you  must  go,"  answered 
the  brave  woman.  "  When  will  the  new  com- 
})any  march?  " 

"  To-morrow." 

"  To-morrow !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wliite. 
"You  can  not  wear  those  old  trousers.  We 
must  make  you  a  new  pair." 

"  A  soldier  can  not  wait  for  new  clothes, 
and  I  must  march  with  my  company.  A  pair 
of  trousers  can  not  be  made  in  a  day." 

"We  shall  see,"  thought  his  mother,  as  she 
hurried  away  to  call  her  daughters. 

"  Is  there  any  woolen  cloth  in  the  house, 
Nancy?"  she  asked. 

"  Not  a  yard ;  I  used  the  last  yesterday." 

"And  there  is  no  yarn,  either,"  said  Deb- 
orah, the  oldest  daughter. 

"The  sheep  have  not  been  sheared,  and 
there  is  no  w^ool.  It  is  not  possible  to  make 
Abner  a  new  pair  of  trousers  before  he  goes. 
There  is  no  use  to  try  1  "  said  Nancy. 


o 

CD 
3 


(2B1) 


232 

"  We  can  never  tell  what  we  can  do  until 
we  try,"  replied  the  mother.  "Where  are 
the  sheep?  " 

"  They  are  in  the  pasture.  I'll  catch  them,'' 
offered  Silas,  the  younger  son. 

"And  I'll  help,"  said  little  Faith.  "Til 
get  some  salt  to  coax  them  with." 

The  children  ran  to  the  pasture.  "  Nan, 
Nan,  Nan,  Nan,"  they  called.  And  the  sheep 
came  running  for  the   salt. 

Nancy  was  hurrying  to  the  field  ^y\\^\  a 
pair  of  large  shears  in  her  hand.  "  Catch 
that  black  sheep  if  you  can,"  she  shouted. 

Silas  caught  and  held  the  sheep,  while 
Nancy  cut  off  the  long,  black  wool. 

"  Here  is  a  white  sheep  with  beautiful 
wool,"  called  out  Faith. 

Silas  put  his  arms  around  the  patient  ani- 
mal, and  Nancy  cut  off  its  line  white  wool. 

"  You  may  carry  in  all  the  wool  we  have, 
Faith,"  said  Nancy.  "  Silas  and  I  will  keep 
on  shearing  until  we  have  enough." 

The  wool  was  quickly  combed  by  Deborah, 
for  there  was  no  time  to  wash  the  newly  cut 


233 

fleece.  Yeiy  soon  the  motlier  commenced  to 
spin.  How  the  spinning  wheel  buzzed  as  it 
twisted  the  soft  wool  into  yarn! 

Nancy  threaded  the  loom.  Deborah  wound 
the  sliuttle  full  of  new  yarn,  and  the  weaving 
of  the  cloth  began. 

Back  and  forth  the  shuttle  flew,  Deborah 
and  Xancy  taking  turns.  Late  at  night  the 
cloth  was  woven,  and  Abner's  new  trousers 
were  cut  out.  All  nioht  long  the  sewinii 
went  on,  every  stitch  by  hand. 

Tlie  next  day  at  noon  Silas  sat  on  the  gate- 
post watching.  Rub-a-dub-dub,  rub-a-dub-dub, 
came  the  sound  of  drums. 

"  Here  they  come  !  Here  they  come  !  tell 
mother,"  he  shouted. 

They  all  hurried  to  the  fence  to  see  the 
soldiers   march  by. 

Abner  held  his  musket  proudly  as  he 
passed.  He  glanced  at  his  mother  and  then 
down  at  his  new  trousers. 

"No  one  looks  liner  than  our  Abner,"  said 
Deborah,  as  the  soldier  boys  marched  by  on 
their  wav  to  the  war. 


234 
AMERICA 

TO    BE    MEMORIZED 

My  country,  'tis  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty, 

Of  thee  I  sing ! 
Land  where  my  fathers  died ; 
Land  of  the  pilgrims'  pride ; 
From  every  mountain  side 

Let  freedom  ring ! 

My  native  country,  thee, 
Land  of  the  noble  free, 

Thy  name  I  love  ; 
I  love  thy  rocks  and  rills, 
Thy  woods  and  templed  hills ; 
My  heart  with  rapture  thrills 

Like  that  above ! 

Let  music  swell  the  breeze, 
And  ring  from  all  the  trees, 

Sweet  freedom's  song; 
Let  mortal  tongues  awake ; 
Let  all  that  breathe  partake ; 
Let  rocks  their  silence  break - 

The  sound  prolong ! 


235 

Our  fathers'  God,  to  Thee, 
Author  of  liberty, 

To  Thee  we  sing ! 
Lons;  may  our  Land  be  bright, 
With  freedom's  holy  light! 
Protect  us  by  Thy  might, 

Great  God,  our  King ! 


A   SOXG   FOR   FLAG   DAY 

Out  on  the  breeze, 

O'er  land  and  seas, 
A  beautiful  banner  is  streaming. 

Shining  its  stars, 

Splendid  its  bars, 
Under  the  sunshine  'tis  gleaming. 

Over  the  braye 

Long  may  it  wave. 
Peace  to  the  world  ever  bringing. 

While  to  the  stars, 

Linked  with  the  bars, 
Hearts  will  forever  be  singing. 

—  Lydia  Coonley  Ward. 


23G 


<P 


JUNE 

EosES  by  the  garden  wall, 
Poppies  red  and  lilies  tall, 

Bobolinks  and  robins,  —  all 
Tell  that  June  is  here. 

JULY 

The  clover  meadows  call  the  bees, 
The  squirrels  chatter  on  the  trees, 

And  robins  sino;  their  merry  lavs : 
Hurrah  for  glad  vacation  days ! 


AUGUST 

Sing  a  song  of  harvest  time, 
When  the  golden  grain  is  high, 
When  the  blossoms  blow, 
And  the  sun  in  a  glow 
Sweeps  over  a  cloudless  sky. 


287 

THE    SEASONS 

SiNCx  a  song  of  seasons, 
Something  i)i'iglit  in  all, 

Flowers  in  the  summer, 
Fires  in  the  tall. 

—  Robert  Louis  Stevexsox, 

THE   MONTHS 

Ix  January  falls  the  snow. 
In  February  cold  winds  blow. 

In  Marcli  peep  out  the  early  flowers, 
In  April  fall  the  sunny  showers. 

In  May  tlie  tulips  bloom  so  gay, 
In  June  the  farmer  mows  his  hay. 

In  July  liaryest  is  besiun, 

In  August  hotly  shines  the  sun. 

September  turns  the  green  leayes  brown, 
October  winds  then  shake  them  down. 

Noyember  fields  are  brown  and  sere, 
December  conies  and  ends  the  year. 


238 


FOR   THE   GIRLS 


My  fairest  cliild,  I  have  no  song  to  give  you, 
No  lark  could  pipe  to  skies  so  dull  and  gray. 

Yet,  ere  we  part,  one  lesson  I  can  leave  you 
For  every  day  :  — 

Be  good,  sweet  maid, 

And  let  who  will  be  clever; 
Do  noble  thina^s,  not  dream  them,  all  davlong;; 

And  so  make  life,  death,  and  that  vast  for- 
ever, 
One  grand,  sweet  song. 

—  Charles  Kingsley. 
FOR   THE   BOYS 

Dare  to  be  right !     Dare  to  be  true ! 
You  have  a  work  that  no  other  can  do; 
Do  it  so  bravely,  so  kindly,  so  well, 
Angels  will  hasten  the  story  to  tell. 

Dare  to  be  right !     Dare  to  be  true  ! 
The  failings  of  others  can  never  save  you. 
Stand  by  your  conscience,  your  honor,  your 

faith ; 
Stand  like  a  hero  and  battle  till  death. 


239 
WHAT    WOULD    I    DO  ? 

If  I  were  a  bird  I  would  warble  a  song, 

The  sweetest  and  finest  that  ever  was  heard, 

And  build  me  a  nest  in  the  old  elm  tree ; 
Oh,  that's  wliat  I'd  do  if  I  were  a  bird  ! 

If  I  were  a  flower  I'd  hasten  to  bloom, 

And   make    myself   beautiful   all    the   day 
through. 
With  drinking  tlie   sunshine,  the  wind,  and 
the  rain  ; 
Oh,  if  I  were  a  flower,  that's  what  I'd  do ! 

If  I  were  a  brook  I  would  sparkle  and  dance 
Among   the  green  fields  where  sheep  and 
lambs  stray. 
And  call,  "  Little  lambkins,  come  hither  and 
drink ;  " 
Oh,  if  I  were  a  brook,  that  is  what  I  would  say ! 

If  I  were  a  star  I  would  shine  wide  and  bright 
To  guide  the  lone  sailor  on  ocean  afar, 

And  travelers,  lost  in  the  desert  and  woods ; 
Oh,  that's  what  I'd  do  if  I  were  a  star ! 


240 

But  I  know  that  for  nie  other  tasks  have  been 
set, 
For  I  am  a  child  and  can  nothing  else  be ; 
I  must  sit  at  my  lessons,  and,  day  after  day, 
Learn  to  read  and  to  spell,  and  to  add  one, 
two,  and  three. 

Yet  perhaps  if  I  try  I  shall  sometime  find  out 
How  the  birds   sing   so   sweetly,  how  the 
roses  grow  red. 
What  the  merr}^  brook  says  to  the  moss-cov- 
ered stones. 
And  w^hat   makes   the   stars   stay  so  high 
overhead. 


WORD    LIST 

Of  the  more  difficult  words  of  the  lessons  of  the  Third 
Reader  not  listed  in  the  preceding  books  of  the  series. 

The  following  ke}'  to  the  pronunciation  of  words  is  in 
accordance  with  AVebster's  New  International  Dictionary. 
The  silent  letters  in  the  word  list  are  printed  in  italics. 


a 

mate 

1 

pine 

u 

us 

c         can 

a 

sen 'ate 

i 

pin 

u 

fur 

g  =  s  gent 

a 
a 
ji 

mat 

ask 
jiir 

0 

J. 

0 

note 
6  bey' 

00 

6o 

moon 
foot 

g        get 
g  =  j  gem 
n  =  ng  ink 

a 

air 

0 

not 

oi 

oil 

s         so 

0 

soft 

ou 

out 

§=z   as 

e 
e 
e 
e 

we 

be  fore' 

wet 

o'ver 

■K 

0 

u 
u 

lord 

use 
u  nite' 

oy 

OW: 
dtl 

=  oi   toy 
=  ou  cow 

ver'dure 

th       thin 
th  tiiem 
tu  na'ture 

a  =  6  what  e    =a  they  'i  =e  police'  6  =  u    son 

a  =  e  cel'lar  ee  =e  feet  Q  =  oo  move  H  =  oo  rude 

a  =  6  call  ew  =  ii  few  o  =  o6  wolf  u  =  o6  full 

•  •                     ••  •                              •  ■                            ■ 

e  =  a  .there  ,   f=e  ta'pir  f=e  com' fort  y  =  i      niy 

e  =  u  her            i=^  girl  1=^  w5rk  }'  =  i      cit'y 

16— 3r  241 


242 


Ab'ner 

Aw'gust 

boil'er 

change'ful 

A'bra  ham 

a  wait' 

Bon  Aeur' 

char'i  ot 

ab'senge 

bos'om 

cheer 

a<?  count' 

ba'con 

bot'^om 

cheer'y 

a' ere  {-ker) 

bang'ing 

bou^A 

cher'rieg 

ad  viQg' 

ban'wer 

brake 

chesf'nut 

a  greed' 

bar'gain  {-gen)  brake'man 

chim'nev 

al'cove 

bar'rel 

break 

clioir  {kioir) 

al'der 

bathe 

breez'y 

choked 

Al'ige 

beard' ed 

brim 

chop'joing 

a  light' 

bear'ing 

biick'les 

chose 

Al  le'gra 

beau'te  ous 

bud'c?ing 

chub'ft\" 

aloof 

be  hold' 

bu'gle 

^in  9iw  na'ti 

al'pha  bet 

bel'^oM'S 

bunch 

clam'ber 

al  read'y 

be  loved' 

bur'ied 

clam'bered 

al'tered 

be  neath' 

{her'id) 

clasp 

A  mer'i  ca 

Ben'ja  niin 

burst'ing 

clifPs 

a  mused' 

Beth'le  hem 

bush'y 

cling'ing 

an'gel 

be  yond' 

cloak 

an'gry 

Bi'ble 

cab'in 

clos'et 

ant'ler 

bis'cwit 

can'dle 

clotli'ing 

an'vil 

bit'fer 

ca  reer' 

Cl5'ver  nook 

a'pri  cot 

black 'smith 

care' fill 

Cly't^e 

A'pril 

blan'ket 

care 'fill  Zy 

coach 

ar  rive' 

blaz'ing 

car 'ri  age 

coarse 

ar'r5t<> 

blithe 

cat'fle 

coast'ing 

ar'row  head 

blood 

Qease 

coax 

a  shore' 

Blyn'ken 

gel'Zar 

c6f'/ee  (-1) 

at'^c 

b6d'ie§ 

cham 

col'umw 

aw 'burn 

bod'y 

change 

com 'fort 

243 


com  pan' ion 

curl) 

door'wa^ 

gm'pr6ss 

i-yun) 

cu'  ri  ons 

doz'gn 

6mp'ty 

com' pass 

curl 

draft 

6n  camped' 

con  due 'tor 

ctir' rants 

drear'y 

6n'e  mies 

con  f  ess' 

cur 'rent 

dries 

6n'e  my 

con'stant 

drifts 

6n  gi  neer' 

con'stant  ly^ 

dain'lif^s 

drip'jt?ing 

Eng'lish 

con  tent'ed 

dam' ask 

drown 

(In'glish) 

cor'al 

dan'de  li  on 

drowned 

Eng'lish  man 

cor'ner 

dan'ger 

drown'ing 

6n  joyed' 

c6i'ta,ge 

dash'ing- 

drtimmgd 

enor'mous 

cot'ton 

daugh' ter 

dtinge 

Er'n6st 

couch 

dawn 

dust'y 

6r'rand 

course 

daz'zle 

dii'ties 

6s  cape' 

couvt 

dSath 

du'ty 

Es'ki  mo 

co'zi ly 

Deb' 6  rah 

dy'ing 

eve 

crSn'ber  ries 

De  ^'gm'ber 

ex  act'ly" 

creak 

de  cid'ed 

ea'ger 

{eg  zdkt'-) 

ere  a'tion 

de  lay 

ea'gle 

6x  clami' 

(-shU7l) 

de  light' 

ear'liSst 

gx'ile 

crgpt 

de  li^At'ed 

ear'nest 

6x  treme' 

crgv'ige 

di'a  mond 

ear' rings 

6x  treme'ly 

crim'son 

dim' 15- 

East'er 

crobk'ed 

dip 'per 

eat' en 

Fair'fax 

CrSp'well 

di  rgct'ly 

ScA'o 

false' hood 

•  • 

cru'el 

dis  cov'er 

6d^u  cat  ed 

fa'mous 

cru'61  ly 

dis'tange 

gld'est 

fan'Qies 

cru'el  ty 

dis  trSss' 

glm 

lan'gy 

crumbs 

dis  tiirb' 

61  se' where 

fare  w6ll' 

cttb^ 

div(} 

6  m  broid'er 

fiir'ther 

244 


fash'/oned 

forth 

gra' clous 

hgad'quar'terg 

fath'om 

France 

(-sAms) 

hgalth'y 

fa^dt 

free'dom 

grani 

hSav'en 

Igath'er  y 

freeze 

gT^m'm&T 

hei(/ht 

Fgb'ru  a  ry 

frignd'ly 

grasp 

hSr'ring 

fee'ble 

irlght'en 

greed 

Hin'du 

fee'bly 

fiol'ic 

Greek 

•  ■ 

hoard 

feed'ing 

frost' ed 

greet'ings 

lioe'ing 

feel' in  g 

frown 

grz'ef 

hoVlow 

Fer'di  nand 

fu'ner  al 

grieve 

b5me'stead 

fern 

fur'ni  tiire 

grind'ing 

A5n'6st 

fgs'ti  val 

fiir'roM'S 

grgwp 

Aon'es  ty 

fi'er  y     . 

fur'ry 

growled 

hood'ed 

fifteenth 

fur'ther 

gwgst 

hoofs 

fin'ger 

giist 

h5pe'ful 

fin'ish 

gal'Zer  y 

hopped 

iive'\l(/ht 

game 

hab'it 

house'hold 

fire' man 

gar 'den  er 

ha^f 

howled 

flashed 

gar'ment 

htiZves 

hiige 

fleege 

gatii'er 

Hii'na 

hii'man 

fleeg'y 

gawz'y 

hSn'dled 

httm'ble 

flour 

ggn'er  al 

hap'pen 

hun'gry 

flute 

ggn'tle  man 

hap'pi  nSss 

hiirled 

fliit'^er 

g^ost 

hiir'bor 

hur  v'^h' 

foam'ing 

glM'dens 

har'ngss 

hGr'ried 

foot' step 

glange 

harsh 

hiir'ry 

forqe 

glee 

haste 

hiirt'ing 

ford'ed 

globe 

has'^en| 

hj'nms 

f8rgv'er 

glow'ing 

haze 

fdrge 

gown 

hgad 

196' berg 

245 


i'9y 

ke^/'hole 

low' lands 

mod'el 

i'dly 

kind'ly 

low'ly 

mo'ment 

im'age 

king'dom 

Itilled 

mon'ster 

lui  pa'tience 

A;nave 

moon'lit 

(shens)  Jcnees 

mag'ic 

moon'shine 

in  close' 

^nglt 

ma2d'eii 

mo'tion  (shun) 

In  dian'a 

A;nives 

maid'serv  ant 

mouth 'ful 

in  stgad' 

^nSeked 

nmn'nev 

mu  se'um 

in  tSnd'ing 

knowl'^dge 

ma 'pie 

mil' sic 

m'ter  6st  ing 

miirsh 

mu  si'cian 

m  vite' 

lam 

niat'^rSss 

(mw  zish'aii) 

Is  a  bgl'Za 

lamS'kin 

Ma?/ 

miis'kSt 

is' lands 

iSn'guage 

meal 

Isles 

Isuvn 

mean 

Na  bant' 

i'vy 

la'zy 

mgant 

na2led 

Ja'cob 
Jan'ti  a  ry 
Ja  pan ' 
Jap  a  nese' 
jiiMn'ty 

lead'er 

leap' ing 

le'g^on 

lev'el 

Wght'mng 

limJs 

meas'ure 

(rnezh'ur) 

mSd'c?le 
mera'6  ry 
INIer'lin 
mgr'riSst 

nSn  keen' 

na'tive 

i\?iugh'if 

nSek'la^e 

nee^^'bors 

■neigh' ing 

jaw'g 

joined 

joy'ous 

limp 'ing 
Lin'coZn 
lis'iened 

mid'  vem 
mi^At'y 
mil'?ion  (-yun) 

ngt'wOrk 
news' pa  per 
New  York 

June 

•  • 

jfm'gle 
jus'tige 

16  CO  mo'tive 
lone'some 

min'is  ter 
min'ute  (-tO 

nib' Ming 
ni^At'gown 

Long' f el  low 
loom 

mir'ror 
mis'chief 

Ki'iia  (nen'ya) 
nine'teen 

Kate 

loosed 

mis'trSss 

no'ble 

Ken  ttick'y 

loss 

mit'tens 

no' bod  y 

246 


nois'y 

pane 

plain' ly 

print 

n5n's6nse 

Par' a  dise 

plan '6 1 

print 'er 

nortii'ern 

par'don 

plank 

prize 

nos'trils 

X 

Par'is 

planned 

pro  ces'sion 

no'tig^e 

piir'lor 

plat'fSrm 

(^-sesh'tin) 

No  vgm'ber 

par' rot 

plaz/'fel  low 

pio  mot'ed 

nurs'er  y 

par 'ties 

plow' ing 

prSp'er 

pas'sitge 

plump 

pro  t&ct' 

6  bilged' 

pSs'sen  gers 

plum'y 

proud'ly 

ob  serve' 

pass'ers 

plttnged 

jDro  vide' 

Oc  to'ber 

pass'es 

p6ck'6ts 

pro  vid'ing 

oi'fev 

pas'ture 

poked 

prowled 

of'/ige 

pa'tient  (shen 

0  p6  lite' 

prowl' ing 

of'/i  gers 

pat'^er  ing 

pop  corn 

pru'dent 

once  (wiins) 

pa?/se 

porcli 

pub' lie 

6'pen  iug 

pear 

pos'si  ble 

pud'c^ing 

op'j^o  site 

peeped 

post 

pumped 

6r'chard 

pgl'l  can 

post 'age 

pump' kin 

o'ri  die 

pgn'(;il 

p6  ta'toes 

pun'ish 

or'na  ment 

perch 

pounced 

pup'^y 

5  ver  look' 

pgr'ish 

powred 

push' ing 

owl'gt 

Pha'e  thon 

praise 

5wn'er 

Phoe'be  (fc'he 

X                  X 

0  prank 

quail 

«       t 

■^      0^          1 

A                _ 

quSs'tions 

ox'^n 

pi  az'ga 

pra«/er§ 

X 

(-chunz) 

piek'leg 

preacli'er 

quick 

pack 'age 

piege 

prg'cious (-s^ws)  qiu'gtly 

packed 

pi'geon 

prgssed 

quilt 

pad'  die 

pil'Zdw'S 

pride 

paid 

Pin'ta 

prim' rose 

rack'et 

patr 

pipes 

Pringe 

rag'(/6d 

247 


lail'rdad 
ras^'bgr  rigs 
rsit'tllng 
reared 

rea'sou 

J. 

re  qeive' 
re  frgsh'incf 
rem' deer 
re  joi(^g' 
rgl'a  tivg§ 
re  mam' 
re  peat' 
re  posg' 
rev'er  entje 
re  ward' 
ri'fle 

rijj'en  ing 
ris'en 
roam 
roast 
rock'}' 
roll'ing 
R61'/o 

Ro'sa 

J. 

rougli  (jfJ) 

Ru'dy 

rii'fle 

riis'tle 

rus'ding 

rust'y 


sad'fZest 

sad'ness 

San'tii  Mii  ri'a 

sash'es 

sat'in 

saM'ger 

scam 'per 

scAol'ar 

scold 

scout 

scram 'blf- 

scra^chfd 

scream 

screen 

seal 

seal 'skin 

sea'p5rt 

search. 

sec'ontr 

se  lect'ed 

Sep  tSni'ber 

ser'mon 

sev'er  al 

sew'ing  (j"-) 

sex'ton 

shag'^y 

shamr 

shawl 

shel'ter 

shepV/et-d 


short 

shoid'der 

shut'de 

si^n 

Si'las 

sI'lenQg 

si'lent  1}^ 

sin'  ew  y 

siz^ 

skgfch 

skirts 

sledge 

sleet 

sle«V/A 

slipped 

slop'iug 

sl&g'_(/ard 

sliim'ber 

sly 

smel'Zing 

smil'ing 

snap 

snateh 

sno?f' flake 


sno?^;'y 
sobbed 
so' fa 
sol 'em  w 
sol'i  tildes 

X 

spar 'k  ling 


spill 

splgn'dor 

sptin 

squeeze 

sqmr'rel 

staZk 

stiir'lit 

star'ry 

steam 

step' lad  der 

stew 

stitch 

sto'len 

stool 

store'house 

strjin'ger 

strgngtli 

streteh'es 

a. 

strok'ing 

strug'^les 

stu'di  o 

stiiffed 

sue  gess' 

siid'c?en 

sud'(7en  ly 

suffer 

siif '/er  ing 

sug'a,r(shor'>{i'Pr) 

siink'en 

aup  plied' 


248 


sur'fa^-e 

Thurs'day 

un  der  tilke' 

whgnge 

sur  rounds' 

tim'id 

Tin  seen' 

wheth'er 

sur  ve^' 

tin'kled 

uu  truth' 

•  • 

whin'ing 

sur  ve_y'or 

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whit'ea 

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sweet'bri  er 

tow'ered 

vales 
val'^ey 

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whole 

swell 
sw5rd 

triick 
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whoop 
wieks 

CJ 

xeii 

syc'a  more 

tread 

wil'der  ness 

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vein 

s5'm'pa  th5' 

treat 

ve  ran' da 

win'dow 

tres'de 

Ver'non 

win'try 

tal7ow 

trick 'led 

vest 

with' e  red 

task 

troo[> 

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witli  in' 

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trou'ble  some 

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trou'sers 

vi§  it 

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• 

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trun'dle 

wagged 

won 

terVi  h\e 

trunk 

wait'ing 

won'der 

tgr  rif'ic 

truth 

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• 

wood' en 

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truth' ful 

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thatched 

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wax 

wound 'ed 

thaw 

tune 

waz/'slde 

wreath 

third 

tur'tle 

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wreaths 

thou'sand 

tusk 

weep 

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thread 

twin'  kle 

weigh 

wron^ 

threshed 

twist 

wel'come 

Wynk'en 

threw  (-00) 

whale 

throng 

uu  der  neath' 

•wheel' bar  row  ySHed 

14  DAY  USE 

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